The Path of Destruction: Ascension Part 3
by Julian Ozar
Summary: The final pieces are in place for Connor's final transformation into the Destroyer. And, in the deepest parts of Connor's soul, he knows that only he has the power to determine what the effects of that transformation will be for all creation.
1. Previously

Hello Everyone. I'm back, and here's the final part of the Path of Destruction series.

Although this fanfic started out as well… a fanfic, I have also treated it as a sort psychological metaphor. And now, it's progressed into new directions throughout its entire work.

Thanks to all my readers and I hope my work has stimulated some good things in you.

Enjoy.

- JO

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Obligatory Disclaimer: All characters on Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer are properties of Joss Whedon and company, etc...

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Previously:

When Aidan, Lawin, Malachi and Connor first met, they regarded each other with distrust, xenophobia and suspicion; which included insults, name calling and nearly killing each other. Each one of them had his own agenda, and no one was above manipulation and trickery to serve his own particular ends.

However, despite their mutual contempt and distrust for each other, the boys were able to work together as a team. Their first work together consisted of intercepting various skirmishes and helping the slayers behind the scenes. They went about this with the objective of serving their own unique agendas. For Connor, it was to find Angel. All this came to an abrupt halt when Marastoth, a renegade demon god from Quortoth, manifested himself itself into the world.

When the essence of Marastoth was allowed to enter this plane, he possessed a human host. Armed with a material form, Marastoth created a powerful artifact known as the Bane Crystal which can manifest demons into physical manifestation, and from there the demon god from Connor's enigmatic past conjured up his legions.

Knowing full well what would happen if they allowed Marastoth to continue using the crystal, Connor and his unlikely allies took it upon themselves to destroy it. They succeeded in their goal but something went wrong. For when Connor struck his blow, the crystal's energies infected his mind and weakened the part of his memories that was attuned to his humanity.

It should have destroyed him, but for the intervention of Whistler, who had orchestrated a complex plot to create a mental link between Connor and another being whose human personality was based on false memories - Dawn Summers. It worked and the plot to accelerate Connor's transformation into the Destroyer was thwarted. Barely.

There was however another unwelcome addition to the entire mess for as Connor's mind was linked to the crystal at the time of its explosion, the resulting mass of energy conjured up one last demon, an Angelus doppelganger – the manifestations of Connor's darkest fears and hatred.

Sensing how the doppelganger could compromise his plans to unleash Connor's powers, Marastoth enlisted it into what was left of his army, the Kluthu'kar. Marastoth then ordered his legions to attack his enemy Vorathon, an ancient snake-like demon who was hellbent on releasing the Gods of the Deeper Well from slumber, another faction with vested interests in the coming conflict.

In the coming weeks, these two demon armies waged a covert war against one another all over the world, and amidst an unsuspecting humanity. They hid their actions by conjuring disasters and spells where their battles were to take place. Only the powerful knew the truth and they knew it by the devastation which was left in the wake of the two warring factions. The slayers – humanity's greatest guardians - were powerless to stop the war because they too were being manipulated by forces beyond their control.

This war reached a climax when the combined demon armies of Vorathon – beaten and broken by Marastoth's legions – retreated to the Deeper Well where they attempted to force it open with the use of Glorificus' Key, Dawn. So they kidnapped her and quickly brought her to the Well to be sacrificed.

Around the same time, Connor, Lawin and Aidan found out that Malachi – the servant of the Powers that be - was actually working with Marastoth at the behest of the Powers That Be. It seemed that the mentalist was tasked in preventing the transformation of the Destroyer and his alliance with the Kluthu god was his means of doing just that – a mission that the boys could scarcely understand.

So divesting themselves of Malachi's help, they sought to rescue Dawn on their own. It was a good thing that they knew a portal to the Deeper Well, as time was of the essence. Not even the Slayers could find her in time. After a tense battle, the team managed to save Dawn and she was reunited with her sister safely and Vorathon was defeated, his heart mysteriously and treacherously ripped out by his own ally, an ancient sorcerer named Rukash. As for Marastoth, he used most of his powers to transport the Deeper Well from England to LA.

After the battle, the boys separated for awhile to attend to their respective interests. Lawin, who once worked to the order of mages that Rukash was once member of, went to find the sorcerer to recover the heart and to stop him from creating a mystical bomb.

Aidan got a call from his Pryce and Sirk that they had his friend, Malcolm hostage. They wanted to know what he knew. Luckily, Aidan managed to defeat them and their henchmen and rescue Malcolm.

As for Connor, he went back to his family when his father miraculously recovered from a mystical disease that was ravaging different parts of the world – which meant that something seriously worse is about to transpire.

Laurence as it turns out had made a pact with the First Evil to allow two other Kluthu demon gods to simultaneously possess Laurence's body. In exchange, the First will not destroy Connor's human memories and thus plunge him into madness.

As for Malachi, the mentalist and soldier fanatic of the Powers that Be witnessed all his plans unraveled, and all the prophecies turn against his masters, the powers that be. When he heard about what Laurence's deal with the First, Malachi tried to kill Laurence, reasoning that the repercussions of one man's death would be less disastrous than endangering the Destroyer's transformation. This plan was thwarted by Connor.

With no other alternative to stop the First Evil from possessing Laurence's body, Connor was forced to kill Laurence Reilly to prevent the two other Kluthu from using his father as a host. Doing so however, put too much stress upon Connor's already straining emotional reserve and drove him to the brink of insanity.

With his mind slowly turning against him, the Destroyer taunted Connor that "Connor Reilly and Steven Holtz" will soon fade from existence, leaving only the demon the "only real Connor" behind. This was the breaking point and it caused Connor to cut his wrists open, rather than allow his own demon to take over.

In the meantime, Lawin caught up with Urkonn, and successfully stole the Heart from them. However, at the very moment he was about to destroy the Heart, he was confronted by Anash, telling him to relinquish it to her. When he refused, she blasted him with a powerful energy blast that shattered most of his ribs and leaving him with tremendous blood loss.

Aidan, with his own misfortune, was betrayed by the very friend he had rescued, Malcolm Ingram, who was secretly working for the First. Malcolm gloated that he had been a spy on the council for a long time, and that were it not for him, the First's plans would have been seriously thwarted. He then shot Aidan numerous times and then once in the head.

With all the other factions beaten, Angelus and the First have merged into a single being. The sorceress Anash is trying to create a demonic army. Marastoth, now pressed for time, has opened the Deeper Well and is siphoning all the powers of the old ones into a single power source to help fight off the First – the final piece in the puzzle that is Connor's transformation.

And the Path of Destruction continues…

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Main Characters

Connor Angel/The Miracle Child/The Destroyer/Connor Reilly/Steven Holtz/Tracey's Bitch – Raised in Quortoth, Connor Steven Franklin Reilly Holtz Angel is an unknown paradox of limitless power and potential. He was taught magick by the Kluthu with the aim of corrupting him. Luckily for him, it failed as Holtz managed to wipe out all the corruption done to him along with all his warlock knowledge. After a great struggle, Connor soon returned to LA to find his real father Angelus.

In LA, he fathered Jasmine, boinked Cordelia, sank Angel into an ocean and precipitated a lot of terrible things, and once again had his memories wiped out to protect him from himself. But that was only temporary and soon Connor was returned all of his original memories – the ones wiped out by Angel and the ones wiped out by Holtz - along with the dark powers that he tried so hard to suppress.

Here and now, Connor faces the past that he tried so hard to leave and in doing so he will take one step closer to the singular and lonely choice that is fated to change creation.

(OC) Lawin De La Vega – is a powerful sorcerer from an ancient yet very amoral family of mages. A libertarian by politics and a Gnostic by creed, Lawin can either be very amoral or very compassionate depending on his mood or his alcohol levels.

He learned magicks before he learned to walk thus, he is very proficient in its uses. The only downside is that his powers tend to be unstable and causes bodily harm after prolonged use. In addition to his powers, Lawin also has a voice inside of his head of one of first ancestor, a condition that is slowly driving him insane.

Lawin also has an unnatural taste for chick music, and listens to Michelle Branch, Kelly Clarkson, Dido, Sara Evans, etc… Lawin also has a strong drinking habit and is often seen sucking out the contents of his alcohol flask.

Originally, he worked for a council of mages known as the ancients, super humans who were the original architects of the Slayer line as well as several other mystical weapons. This went to an abrupt halt however, when Lawin was betrayed by his masters after their leader, Rukash sided with the invading demon lord, Vorathon.

His close encounters with Connor and Malachi has made his life a lot more complicated.

Aidan Travers – A Heavily Medicated Kiwi Watcher. Somewhat xenophobic, Aidan has a deep distrust of foreigners particularly of "bloody yanks" and Australians. Aidan is also an artificial necromancer, one of the products of the council's secret attempts at creating supersoldiers to fight the demon world.

Despite his choleric disposition and the amount of meds he sticks down his throat, Aidan is quite intelligent. He has memorized a significant number of national anthems from around the world and is amenable to singing them when he's drunk.

He is also a dedicated gamer, often foregoing his researching duties to play world of warcraft or badly made flash games from porno sites. On the plus side however, he has extensive field experience… something he'll need in the coming conflict.

With the old council gone, Aidan is seen as somewhat of an anachronism of an age long past by his fellow watchers, something to be admired though feared at the same time.

Aidan is also a double agent and is secretly being controlled by the remnants of the old council, acting as a spy on their behalf and leaking valuable information from Giles to the others.

This situation went terribly out of control when he stumbled upon information that hinted of a possible demonic invasion.

Malachi – a soldier-fanatic, Malachi works for the powers that be, much in the same function as Doyle and Whistler. However, his line of work is much grayer and consists of making sure that the "greatest good" is achieved, regardless of the cost.

Malachi is no longer human even though he appears as one. He is now more of an artificial construct created by the powers to serve their ends, a mission that he sees through with fanatical zeal. This fanatical conviction was pushed to the limits when Malachi made very secret alliance of convenience with the Kluthu god Marastoth. Though distasteful to him, Malachi saw this as a necessary evil in order to fight an even greater threat: The Destroyer.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note/Reminder: This story takes place during 2005 in LA.

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Chapter 1: Resurrection

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If you bring forth what is within you, what you have will save you. If you do not have that within you, what you do not have within you [will] kill you.

- Gnostic Scriptures of Nag Hammadi

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Now (2005)

You can't be saved by a lie. You can't be saved at all.

That statement would've been true if the Universe were a simple place, but it isn't. There are truths within lies and lies within truths. I guess if you know where to look you can find anything you want.

God! How'd I get here? It used to be so goddam simple.

You wake up to the noise of a scream, then a whisper… You can't tell the difference between reality and dreamland. You try to focus your senses but they refuse. The world turns one way and your head turns the other. The depth of the pain… you can't imagine. It's there, waiting for you to falter and fall.

Taking over…

It's taking over…

Help me…

Connor!

Steven!

Nebadon – The Destroyer!

You can't escape what you are. Figure it out… or die!

I remember the song of a distant memory, whispers that my heart sees clearly and my mind does not understand. I don't know if this is love or a hope for past innocence to return, but it was alive. It was there. Ignored for so long because it was too precious for a dark world within a darker world.

I reach out my hand for help but there is only abyss in the distance. I'm afraid. In the distance, I could see bound figures, weeping dying, scourged from pain.

Bright lights.

"Connor," a distant voice whispered, "look at me."

I would not. I wish to rest, away from the abyss, away from the pain.

"Connor, come on. You need to get up."

A soft caress on my hair. I'm being forced to live again… and to die again, perhaps?"

But you are alive, and in that knowledge, you are made whole once more.

The night sky bled an evil hue of red, as the First Evil's form grew stronger. The air smelled of foul fumes, the stench of rotting flesh mixed with some unknown element that reeked of decay. The distant howl of death, the silence of fear unbidden and the terrible madness within contributed to the terrifying conflict that was about to happen.

The First summoned all of its power to resist the coming blow but even that would not help him as Connor plunged his blade into the First Evil's form, his energies coursing through the blade and making its way into the primordial being. The First was surprised by a sensation that may have been pain.

Connor detached himself and executed a back flip which allowed him to land gently on the ground. Eyes and flesh brimming with the purifying energies, the Destroyer looked at the First Evil. For the first time, Connor knew the first evil, saw how vulnerable it is despite its immense powers. He saw the part that he was meant to play in this grand scheme and it was then that Connor knew why he was so feared and venerated amongst the powers of light and darkness.

He knew what he was. He knew who he was. But now, looking at his enemy, this creature that planned the death of Laurence Reilly, he now knew the true extent of the part he played in the greater scheme of things. This was not just simple intellectual knowledge but true enlightened awareness of something greater.

Connor's soul screamed in ecstasy. For the first time since ever, everything was in its proper place. Everything was whole. Everything made sense. No longer was he bound by the madness of accidental variables. There were no more scattered pieces left. He saw, with his inner eye, the whole picture. He was more than a demon, more than man, more than a god.

He was the Destroyer and not even the First Evil can stop him.

* * *

24 Hours Ago

It had happened so long ago, he thought.

This entire mess first began when he decided to attack the circle of the black thorn. He remembered it as if it had been an entire lifetime ago even, and given the amount of inter-dimensional jumping that he had been doing for… a very long time, it might as well be. He had barely won, but the consequences were as terrible as he could have imagined.

His entire team had been wiped out. Gunn, Wesley, Illyria… Spike - he lost contact with him in the alley. As for Connor, he didn't know what happened to him. He could only hope that he was safe and that the partners would not turn their wrath on him because of something that he, Angel, had done.

For now though, he was safe.

His past came flooding back to him. They came to him soon after the battle in the alley. The Powers. It was they who transported Angel from the battlefield into another dimension. Call it divine intervention, fate or whatever, but Angel always knew that there were forces watching over him. They may not exactly have the noblest of intentions, but Angel was sure that they would not clear him from the board so casually.

So when they offered him a chance to escape the wrath of the senior partners, Angel took it. He didn't even have a chance to save or find the others. It had happened so fast: First the battle in the alley, a pathetic one-sided battle, a pitiful retreat and finally the portal.

And that was how Angel survived, by jumping from one portal to another. The dimensions were disorienting and he could not tell how long it has been since the battle in the alley. It seemed like several lifetimes past and yet it seemed like days only. The funny thing was that Angel couldn't be sure.

Throughout this time, he still couldn't see himself on the mirror – he was still a vampire – but his face, he knew, had transformed into something inhuman. More demonic. Angel didn't know if this was because of the dimension hopping or some evil spell, but one thing's for sure, he had been away for a very long time. And he's not really surprised. He had spent a century in hell thanks to Buffy before, and he couldn't even remember any of it. So it's not implausible for it to happen again.

This was the order of things… that is until Angel was sucked into a portal that lead to large open field in an unknown dimensions. That was certainly unexpected. He was supposed to enter portals, not get sucked into them.

He looked around. The place looked like the American Midwest – oceans of grass and greens, barely a soul in sight. Above, the sky shown forth in an odd mixture of velvet and blue. Angel wondered what was going on. What were the Powers up to now? Were the Senior Partners catching up with him. Regardless of his train of thought, he was certain of one thing:

Something had gone wrong.

Suddenly, the sky split then open and from the shattered pieces of reality emerged a creature so dark that it rend the earth with sulfur and fire. The monstrosity bore close resemblance to Cerberus of old – a three headed abomination of evil. The first head was that of Wolf but its fur was covered with horns and blood dripped from its fangs. The second head was that Ram, but its horns twisted into constantly changing shapes and charged with a dark energy that cackled with malevolence. The third and final head was that of a Hart and its flesh was covered with boils and plagues.

The three heads turned their attention to Angel, and with one loud demonic voice spoke, "Angel! We've been looking for you."

_I don't want to remember. I want to forget. Forget who I am. Forget what I am. I want to sleep and rest, and disappear into nothing._

And so he did. There was only darkness.

But it was a darkness which howled its own sounds and projected its own colors. At first, Connor thought that this was what death was like, but it wasn't this darkness – these bore reflections of his life, the fabricated ones and the ones which brought him into the pit of the despair, twice this time now.

The sounds of the lives of Connor Reilly and Steven Holtz echoed within this darkness, floating like a collage of images and bearing familiar but discordant sounds. Deeper than this darkness was the evil within him, the evil which was as much a part of his birthright as the powers which so many had accused him of having.

When all was said and done they surrounded him like a flood, the only point of reality and it galled him to think that despite him being broken, he was still alive. He felt this certainty when he looked upon himself not as the center of a personality or an ego but an extension of a mysterious power. This power illuminated the darkness but not of it, and as he gained awareness of this power he saw that it was a light – a terrible kind of light, the light which brings redemption and destruction. He was this light and he was the Destroyer. Everything else is darkness and they will fall before him.

Connor reached out with his thoughts as though he could grip the strings of this experience. The darkness illusion became strong once more and enveloped him like a blanket, drowning out this connection and plunged him back into the dark sea of forgetfulness, lost once more.

Connor woke up to discover the Kluthu god smiling down at him smugly. His wrists had healed somewhat. The only thing sign of the self-inflicted wound was an unsightly scar.

Connor asked weakly, "What are you doing here?"

"I told you once. I couldn't allow you to die." The demon god leaned closer and hissed in a cold voice. "What you could become – I cannot allow that to die."

"You have no idea about what I have become."

"Oh, but I do and nothing can stop it." Marastoth got up and raised his head to the sky. "It is unfortunate that Laurence… sorry, I mean your 'father' is dead, but this is a war and people die. And for that, I'm sorry."

"Like hell you are."

"You're right. I'm just farting around. But I have to admit, you got me pretty scared with your little suicide attempt.

"The demon was trying to takeover."

"Yes, its arrival was premature. No one could have predicted it. Nevertheless, you are a dumbass for trying to fix it with suicide. How many suicide attempts now?"

"Two. Maybe I could go for three if you won't stop yapping."

Marastoth gave out a deep sigh. "You're just like your father."

"And mother too. They were both demons after all."

"Yes, but you carry in you the potential to be more than just a demon, more than a hell god. Surely, you wouldn't cast that away because you're emotionally hurt."

"I don't want any part of it," Connor answered bitterly.

"And you think a normal human life is a good alternative?" Marastoth pointed at Laurence's body that lay in a quiet corner of the alleyway, "yes that certainly turned out well. You cannot hide behind an illusion anymore. Know who you are and follow whaat you are meant to be."

"The powers don't agree with your thesis," Connor answered with a low cough.

"Ah! you're talking about Malachi," Marastoth laughed a bit. "Well, let me ask you this. Do you honestly think that the powers are noble? That their motives are altruistic?"

"No, but the alternative's not exactly pretty either." Connor clearly meant Marastoth.

The Kluthu laughed once more. "Oh kiddo. Their agendas are the same as ours: To annihilate everything that is not their own and to proclaim themselves supreme. Good, evil – they're just two sides – brands to distinguish one product against the other in a marketing campaign – two similar entities, trying to devour each other, convinced of their own deluded importance – regardless of the fact that they're no different from each other. Worthless pretensions that is as meaningless as…"

"A demon god watching Desperate Housewives?"

"Oh shut up!" Marastoth snarled and instantly changed the topic. "I hear that your daddy there had been the pawn of the great power inside of you."

"He's still inside of me. I can still feel him, buried deep inside, but he's just an asshole that popped out of my subconscious. Nothing more. He killed Lau… my dad to get to me."

"Yeah sure, whatever. Anyway, can you give him my thanks? He really solved a lot of my problems by killing my brother and sister… using your dad."

Connor, with great strain, raised his middle finger.

"Hey! No need to get vulgar just cause your fake old man died because of a massive demon conspiracy! It's all good. You foiled the First's plans and my siblings from Quortoth are dead. It's a happy ending… more or less."

Too tired to talk, Connor's middle finger wavered, but it remained up.

"Don't worry, kid. After tomorrow, you won't have to deal with this nasty little problem," before Connor could figure out what the hell he was talking about, Marastoth reached his hand out in the direction of Laurence's corpse. Instantly, the body burned brightly and then exploded into a shower of blood and gore, splattering the alley's wall and floor.

Connor was aghast. He looked at Marastoth and in an heartbeat, he was on the Kluthu god, feral and dangerous, hungry for blood and vengeance. There was only hate and anger within him. He no longer felt the nihilism that leads to suicide. They killed his father. They killed Cordelia. They made the universe dark and depraved because of their oh-so-glorious machinations.

Ever since he was a boy, they threatened him - took away everything precious, beautiful and meaningful from him. Now, they're going to pay! The First, Marastoth and even the demon potentiality that even now, was threatening to consume him like a cancer.

Connor did not feel his humanity slipping away. He did not know that this new found wrath came from a place that was neither demon nor human. It was a terrible source of power and it was beginning to manifest itself. There would be no more fighting. This time, there will only be punishment and vengeances.

"You Son of a Bitch!" Connor tried to punch Marastoth, but the Kluthu dodged it easily.

Connor made a few more attempts, but wrath and rage can only do so much. After his attempted suicide, he was still weak.

"That's more like it!" Marastoth chuckled as he grabbed one of Connor's arms and use it to throw him against a nearby wall. "Come on tough guy!" Marastoth grabbed Connor neck and put him into a headlock.

"Good boy! I knew I could kick you back into life. Now, I just want to do one last thing!" Marastoth said close to his ear.

"Why don't you just kill me already!" Connor snarled through the pain.

"Tsk. Tsk. Suicidal. Just like your old man." Marastoth then infused Connor's mind with a surge of energy which rendered him barely conscious. He fell down to the concrete floor and tried to steady his now, swirling view.

Marastoth then kneeled down and whispered something into his ear, "the First is hiding it in one of the watcher's buildings. If you hurry, you can disable it and still be on time for the party." With that parting message, Marastoth disappeared from the alley, leaving Connor to drown in a new kind of power that was unleashed from somewhere inside of him.

* * *

Meanwhile in a place not far from LA's docks, the First and his minion the Angelus doppelganger were having a few problems of their own. The creature was becoming unstable and it's material form was starting to unravel and no one knew how to stop it.

"Wha-What's happening to me?" the Doppelganger hissed through his teeth.

"You're becoming unstable. Soon enough, you'll…" the First shrugged.

The two were talking inside a dreary room that was no bigger than a small bedroom. Outside, a half dozen Turok Hans made sure that there would be no prying eyes upon their conversation.

They talked of the coming battle with Marastoth – an inevitable battle that will have infinitely unforeseeable consequences upon the universe. They talked of battle plans. They talked of the number of Turok Han needed to fight the Kluthu'kar. But most of all, they talked about Angelus' worsening condition.

"Help me!" The doppelganger pleaded. "Make it stop."

The First simply smiled.

"You said that you would help me!" Angelus snarled.

"I said I would give you power. And I did. Come on now, you didn't honestly think that you would keep turning out fine did you? When Connor accidentally _imagined_ you into reality, he did so with the use of his unstable head, which makes you unstable." The First's image flickered a bit, "And besides, Kluthu Bane Crystals aren't exactly perfect, so you were bound to end up like this sooner or later. Moreover, Marastoth is weakening because of his siblings untimely demise."

"You knew!" Angelus snarled as his legs became even weaker.

"Hmmm." The First shrugged. "Let's say I suspected."

"You won't let me die!" Angelus hissed beyond the pain. "You still need me."

"Oh, I do need you but not in the way that you think."

"What are you going to do? Huh?" Angelus tried to face the First evil. "What are you going to do?"

The First smiled as it stood ominously before the Doppelgagner in Angelus' image. "You need another upgrade."

The doppelganger's eyes widened with terror at the sudden realization of what the First had intended to do. At first, he shook his head in denial but soon his resolve broke into terror as the First's incorporeal hand stretched out to touch him.

* * *

Lawin remembered.

The last thing he saw was the concentration of fire that would reduce him into cinders. He knew he was defeated and in that knowledge, he lost all hope. In retrospect, his entire quest to lift the curse of his family – the redemption of the Zarakite Scion bloodline – had all been based on a false hope, and as he dreamt a listless loss, he felt his entirely life to have been the interplay between betraying and being betrayed.

How poignant that it would end like this. Killed by his friend and mentor, Anash. And yet, as his mind was filled with dark hopelessness, Lawin felt the tug of life grasping him back to wakefulness. It burned within him like an invisible life, imploring him to keep fighting. To live.

"Wake up!" A voice demanded, but he did not respond. The light however, shone brighter and he was able to recognize that his expectations of death were a bit premature.

"Lawin!" An old and familiar voice called out to him. "Wake up boy."

"Who-Wha?" Lawin shook his head to clear away the pain and the blinding light. When he could see again, he was greeted by Vrill, standing over him with his smug face looking down condescendingly. Right next to him, Boluz appeared, also looking smug. He was inside some kind of abandoned garage, probably a chop shop.

"Oh no," Lawin muttered, despondent at the thought of being saved by two creatures he despised.

"Thank you, would be appropriate," Vrill said.

"We hear that you were betrayed by Anash," Boluz said.

"We're sorry." Boluz and Vrill laughed.

"I don't want your fucking sympathy," Lawin hissed as he attempted to get up.

"And we offer none. We're sorry about accusing you of working with her. We were apparently fooled just like everybody else."

"What are you talking about?"

Boluz and Vrill looked at each other, as if hesitating about what to say to the boy. It was Boluz who decided to speak. "When word of Anash's treachery reached us, we learned of her plans. After you defeated Vortahon, she retreated to one of our hidden sanctuaries. Even as we speak, she is preparing to use Vorathon's heart to create a spell."

"What kind of spell?" Lawin snapped. "A mystical bomb that would kill all the demons in the world?"

"A bomb? Oh no, that's Rukash's plan. No, her plan's a little more different. She wants to ascend her allies and herself into demonhood. The heart can provide her with the power to do so."

"And that was her plan all along? Use me to kill Vorathon, so that she can take his heart and make her spell."

"I could not state it better myself," Vrill said. "But that's not the only thing. She also plans to retrieve the scythe."

That statement clicked into place. "She's planning to turn slayers into demons," Lawin said, but Boluz and Vrill remained quiet. "So she's making her own little demon army," Lawin said as he stood up, "to what end?"

Boluz shrugged. "To stop the Destroyer."

"To stop the First?" Vrill suggested.

"It could be anyone," Boluz continued, "One thing we're sure of though. If she is allowed to continue with her plan then she will have more power than we could comprehend."

"What does the First have to do with any of this?" Lawin asked.

"The First is mustering any army – A Turok han army. He plans to use it to fight the Kluthu."

"That's not good."

"No, and to make matters worse, the First Evil is planning to unleash a demonic plague all over world to coincide with its attack."

"What?" Lawin asked surprised. "I thought that was over?"

"That's what the First wanted everyone to think," Vrill answered, "and now, it's going to try the plague again to make sure that the slayers or anyone will not interfere with his coming battle with Marastoth."

"Dammit!" Lawin hissed. "As if Anash wasn't enough of a problem."

"When it rain, it pours," Vrill answered.

"When it rain, it pours piss," Lawin agreed and began to lean against a nearby wall. He would be forced to fight Anash, his mentor. He failed before. What chance did he have at round two? Lawin didn't want to think about it and so he changed course, "How did you find me anyway?"

The two ancients looked at each other. "You can thank you're friend, Kelador for that."

"Kelly told you where I was?"

"Yes, she hung around until the last moment to tell us where you were," Vrill explained, "she's left this world now, which is more than what we can say about ourselves. At midnight, the deeper well shall be opened."

"And we're all dead," Boluz said, "Or Anash succeeds with her plans, and we're all dead."

"Or the First triumphs and we're all de…" Vrill added.

"Okay, I get it! We're extra dead! My question is what can we do about it?" Lawin asked.

"You ask us for counsel?" Vrill guffawed, "we should be asking you. After all, you know more about the Destroyer than we do."

"You said that the First Evil is planning to spread some supernatural plague into the city? Why?"

"City. Country. World…We don't know, but you must stop it seeing as how we're right here in the middle of it.."

"Agreed. We'll start with that problem and try to move our way to the bigger problems."

"This is pointless. Even if you could disarm the plague spell, there is still Anash, the First and the Kluthu to contend with. We cannot fight them all. What hope is there?"

Lawin looked down, took a swig from his alcohol flask, and said, "none, but I am a Zarakite. I will not die with my head up my ass."

_Lawin, _the inner Scion spoke, _You're weakened. Your chances are grim._

"I have to try," Lawin said to all of them.

"For what it's worth, Lawin. You were just as lost as we were," Vrill said.

* * *

The council's international network was a mess, and the slayer armies were in disarray. Everything was a wreck. There are even rumors running around about a demonic plague that's threatening to kill entire cities. Buffy's doing her best to calm the slayers, but it's not doing a lot of good because even the watcher's aren't sure what's going on. Either way, there are a lot of orders coming into the slayer cell in LA these past few days. Seems like something big was going to happen soon, and Ashely Townes the Vampire Slayer hasn't the faintest idea of what's going to happen.

That is, until her cell phone rang.

"Hello Ashley." A somewhat familiar female voice spoke.

"Yes?"

"I have news about Aidan. He needs your help."

"Who is this?"

"That's not important right now."

"Look Buster! I don't know who the hell you are or what Aidan has gotten himself into but you better start singing or I'm looking for you and so help me God I will…"

"That's enough! I know you're concerned about your friend and watcher. But at the moment he's in a very delicate condition." Ashley listened and quieted herself down. "Listening? Good. Now pay attention. Aidan's uncovered a conspiracy that's deep within your precious council and the consequences are rather… dire for him."

Ashley began to panic. _Dire! _"What happened to him?"

"It doesn't matter at the moment. If you can get to him he can explain it to you… maybe. If he's dead, then you're probably better off not knowing. I gave Mr. Giles a couple of information more than a month ago. Believe me, your people know about the trouble and they will tell you about them when they think that it's the right time." The voice on the other side was unperturbed. "Get to the payphone." Ashley caught sight of the payphone a few steps away.

"You'll find your instructions there."

"Wait! Who is this? What's…" The other line went dead.

On the other side of the line, Dawn looked at Whistler, who sat next to her inside of Giles' car. Giles quietly drove, observant and critical of every movement and nuisance. "I hope you know what you're doing," Dawn said.

"Me too," Whistler answered.

"So when am I going to meet this elusive Connor?" Giles finally spoke up.

"As soon as we find him," Dawn said then cast a questing look at Whistler. "Any ideas where he might be?"

"No, but I know someone who might," Whistler answered.

It took them a few more minutes of driving before they located Tracy. The greetings were short and terse. Whistler took charge of the situation by bringing her up to speed and asking for her help in finding him. Suffice to say, she told them what had happened to Laurence as well as Connor's plan to go to the Hyperion to save his human father.

When Whistler heard about this, he got a terrible pain in his stomach. He didn't know why this was.

* * *

At first, there was only darkness and next, light.

Malachi felt his mind hardened and was then caged in a shell. Sensations flooded into his head and he collapsed into the floor of his cavern sanctum, naked and wearing a new body. He took some time trying to ease himself into the new shell - the lights, the smell. Getting a new body – no matter how many times you've done it – is always disorienting.

_What happened to his old one?_

_ Oh yeah, Connor tore it apart. Right.._

He was expelled from one of the three large vats that lined the cave's walls. The other two contained bodies that bore Malachi's features and body type - twenties, reddish hair, youthful but hardened face.

He looked up to see his golem/demon companion, the guardian of his cave-like sanctum, dragging a corpse – the body which Connor had _killed_ earlier.

"There goes another one," Malachi mutters at the corpse.

_First body lost in this new century, _the golem communicated telepathically, _our masters will not like it._

"Let them fume. They weren't exactly here to help," Malachi answered resentfully.

_It's funny you should say that. They called. They want to talk to you._

"Now?"

_If it isn't too much trouble. _The golem quickly left with the corpse, leaving Malachi to put on some new clothes.

When he had regained his composure, Malachi walked to the well that was his means to communicate with his masters, the Powers that be. However, as of now, he blanched at the thought of talking to them.

All of Malachi's plans have been turned upside down. He was hurt. He was betrayed and he was powerless. Though he still possessed some limited form of prescience, and yes he still had his telekinetic powers, everything was a train wreck. No chance to salvage the mission. The powers were right to have abandoned this world. He was a fool to have tried to manipulate Connor. That... thing is more unstable than he could have imagined.

The puddle of water rippled with energy and soon enough, the vague outline of a face appeared upon its surface. The face was androgynous but it brimmed with power, even in the frail surface of the water.

"Malachi."

Malachi bowed but kept quiet.

"How is your mission?"

Malachi lowered his eyes but remained calm. "I failed. The Destroyer is loose."

"No, it isn't," the being on the other side said. Malachi tried to interrupt but he was not given the chance. "As long as Angel is alive. As long as the cycle is broken, there is still hope. Hope, Malachi. Wasn't that your argument for going into this suicide mission in the first place?"

"That was before I found out that the Destroyer's transformation was premature," Malachi answered bitterly, voice filled with failure.

"It isn't in control. Not completely. Not yet. Not until Angel has united has that which is divided."

"I don't think you understand what I'm talking about." Malachi cleared his throat so that he may speak more forcefully. "The Destroyer has been manipulating things behind the scenes. I didn't know that. You and the other powers didn't know that. There's no telling how many other unknowns are lurking inside the Destroyer's twisted soul."

"And yet Connor Reilly and Steven Holtz still exist," Was all that the being said but it was said with a certain grace and strength, and this seemed to have had great affect upon Malachi for he did not say another word. "Hope. That has always been your mantra. Remember it now and know that anything could happen from this point onward."

"That's true, and it terrifies me."

"It terrifies even us," the being answered, "but we must press on. Our grip on that world is gone, but you are still there. Perhaps, your actions will be enough to tip events to our favor."

"What would you have me do?" Malachi asked.

The being asked: "Tell me, does Connor know how these… events will resolve themselves?"

"At the moment no, but I believe that given enough time, he will figure everything out."

"Then we will have to make sure that when he does, we will be ready."

Malachi scanned the strands of fate, using what little power of prescience he had left, and things weren't looking well. He knew what the powers had in mind and his chances of success were grim. "You're asking a lot."

"We always have."

"I wasn't making a complaint," Malachi answered calmly.

"Good. Because the Senior Partners have found Angel…"

"What! How did that happen?"

"We don't know. I think the First interfered somehow."

"But the Senior Partners can't touch him, right? You can block their powers."

"It's more complicated than that, Malachi," the being said grimly, "they've manifested themselves into material reality, and we both know what that means."

Malachi took a few minutes to digest the news. "How?"

"We don't know. But whatever happens at this point, we can't let Angel fall to their hands. He is the key to completing Connor's transformation. Remember, he is the final piece on the puzzle and the nexus will not be completed without him."

"I know. I know"

"Then that's your new mission – Push the time table."

"And how do I do that? Everything's a mess down here."

"I'm sorry, Malachi. No one up here knows what to do. I'm afraid that at this point, you're on your own."

"Like always," Malachi answered laconically.

"Like always," the power agreed then continued, "all I can offer you are bits and pieces of information. Firs of all, the ancient sorceress Anash is attempting to transform herself and her minions into a demonic army."

Malachi's eyes narrowed at this news. If this was true… "She plans to use them against the Kluthu and the First."

"That's right, but we both know that she won't stop there."  
"No she won't. She'll _recruit humans _as well. What else do you have?"

"The First has unleashed a deadly plague in the city humans call Los Angeles. It is being generated by an artifact. It must be stopped." Malachi took in the information and nodded his head. He wasn't the least bit surprised. "And finally, Marastoth is planning to open the Deeper Well in his madness to hasten the Destroyer's final transformation."

"I already know that one."

"Then you know what's at stake."

The link was cut off and the silence of the sanctum pervaded once more. Malachi closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This was going to be a bitch.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Catharsis

* * *

Twenty Fourth Entry

The barbarian demons were known as the Nog Hototh.

They were little more than savages. They were cannibals that devoured each other and anything that was moving. Their society was as simple and base as the Kluthu'kar's were mysterious and powerful.

It was providence at work. We needed allies to widen the gap between us and our pursuers. The Nog Hototh were our potential allies. If we could convince them to follow our cause then we were already well on our way to freedom. Impressing them would have been a simple matter were it not for a minor complication: Steven. The boy, during my captivity, has apparently led several expeditions against their people on behalf of our former captors. I was told that a dozen Nog Hototh tribes were annihilated because of Steven.

When we first approached our newfound allies, they were torn between fear and murderous rage towards us. They knew who Steven was. They knew of the battle campaigns he had performed in the name of the Kluthu'kar. My son and I were not on the best speaking terms with our allies.

Luckily, Steven knew of their customs and managed to call out to their king. I tried to persuade the brutes to aid us but it was to no avail, for the _king_ refused to help and certainly did not trust us, interlopers. I tried promising vengeance on their oppressors, the Kluthu, but even that would not budge their wretched chieftain. Instead we were caged for our efforts and kept in a pit for two days.

The Nog Hototh planned to kill us. But once again my son has saved us with his knowledge. The brutes were evidently inspired by single combat. This simple tidbit of knowledge has saved our necks yet again for Steven called out to the barbarian's king and challenged/_persuaded_ him into single combat. To make a long story short: Steven has since then used the king's face as one of his trophies.

By that simple act of ancient settlement, my son has become the barbarian's new king and chieftain. We were in a very good situation. We finally had the force of arms we needed to buy us the time to escape.

In addition to Steven's victory, I was given access to the barbarians' shrines. All of which contained texts and scrolls. One particularly took our attention. It was that of a portal to a place called Earth.

* * *

When the search for Connor became difficult, Dawn took it upon herself to consult the only person who stood a good chance of telling them where he was: Tracy. She called her on her phone, blessing her foresight to exchange phone numbers with her when she had the chance.

The call did not last long and after a brief explanation, she and Dawn agreed on a rendezvous. Dawn, along with Giles and Whistler drove to a discreet place not far from the Reilly's house. There, Giles and Whistler met Tracy for the first time, and in doing so brought her up to speed on what was going on, and why they required her help.

"Okay," Tracy said, "let me get this straight. Apparently, my ex boyfriend, has a demonic alter ego. Surprising but not unexpected. This said evil alter ego has been mysteriously manipulating people behind the scenes. Cliché but scary."

Giles smiled a bit. This girl, whoever she is, reminded her of Buffy.

"You," she pointed at Dawn, "have a psychic mind meld thing-y with Connor because demon guy over there," she pointed at Whistler, who stood impassively, "orchestrated it so that your brain could protect my ex from his demon alter ego." Dawn nodded her head. "Weird but cool."

"I know. It's a little convoluted."

"No, actually it explains a lot of things. So what do you guys need from me?"

"We were hoping that you could help us find Connor."

Tracy became tightlipped, and unsure. Whistler understood why. She knew about Laurence's deal with the First Evil, and they explained to her that it was all a trap – a rigged game that no one can win.

"It was a trap. Like everything else, it was a trap," Whistler said.

"He was only trying to save his son," Tracy answered.

"I know," Whistler answered. "but it doesn't change anything. It had all been orchestrated from the very beginning."

"He never had much of chance did he, Connor?" Tracy asked.

"None of us ever did," Whistler answered, "will you help us find him?"

"He told me something about a hotel."

"The Hyperion!" Whistler said, "He's heading for the Hyperion."

"Awesome," Dawn said, "We have a lead."

The group quickly drove to the Hyperion but unfortunately, when they reached the hotel, the only thing that greeted them was wreckage, with police tape and a bunch of cops keeping watch. With so many badges around, they decided to watch the hotel in the distance and find out exactly what was happening.

"Well, at least we know they came through there," Tracy quipped.

But Giles was becoming impatient. He looked just about ready to contact Buffy and tell her what was going on. Whistler noticed this and tried to argue with him. Unwilling to participate in the feud, Dawn and Tracy kept themselves to the task of trying to figure out what could have happened to have caused the wreckage in the Hyperion.

As they did this, Dawn felt something was amiss in the Hyperion. Lingering bits of detail reminded her of a familiar old feeling – the psychic link she shared with Connor. It was imposing itself again, calling for her help when it was most needed. She then began to see weird images of a dead man bits and then pieces of bloody pulp splattered across a room. Connor was there, unconscious – perhaps dying.

She knew this vision to be true and it scared her. It also imposed a strange kind of urgency in her. This struck her hard and nearly knocked her unconscious.

"Dawn?" Tracy turned just in time to see her swoon. "Help!" Tracy yelled to Giles and Whistler who were still arguing. They quickly responded and rushed to Dawn who was beginning to regain her senses.

"He's dead," Dawn said.

"Connor?" Tracy asked in surprise and fright.

"No, his father. He tried to save him. They tried to save each other but they failed."

"What's happening to you Dawn?" Giles asked scared.

But Dawn could not explain, she can only say what she knew. "I know where he is!" She answered.

* * *

Connor dreamed a dreamless sleep, an illusion of his own mind – trying to sort out all the chaos that had exploded so recently. Connor Reilly was no longer a viable persona to be in control, but then again, neither can the Destroyer or Steven Holtz. Every version of the being known as "Connor" was extremely unstable. Before, Connor Reilly had been the best option to keep on going, but since Laurence's death, that was no longer the case. At this point, the only viable answer was a balanced synthesis of every part of Connor's mind and soul: The Destroyer, the Human and the Miracle Child. All must find a common ground or risk mutual destruction.

Strangely, they found it in a dream. A sweet dream of a love that was a false memory. The memory of Tracy at prom.

"Mmmm." Tracey stretched luxuriously cat and snuggled her head against Connor's neck. She peered one sleepy eye at Connor and purred contentedly like a kitten. It was the morning after prom and hot prom sex. They were lying upon each others' arms contentedly near a small lake garden not far from their high school.

It had been the night after prom. They had gone with different dates because they had "broken up" over a big fight a few weeks earlier. Connor had taken someone from the geek clique as his date (which later left early after drinking a little too much gin and tonic), while Tracey had taken some douche named, Andy Fisher as her own. After a brief scuffle involving alcohol, the punch bowl and Mr. Fisher touching his date the wrong way in the wrong places, Tracey drove away from the prom in her dad's Toyota.

She later found Connor sitting near a bus stop with his suit covered with his date's barf. Because she still cared about him and because she felt sorry for him, she picked him up.

That was a nice start but once again, things quickly turned sour. They soon began arguing over the same issues that caused their break up in the first place. It was mostly about Connor's recent trip to Wolfram and Hart, his newfound coldness and the fact that he was no longer like the geeky guy she knew. He was different and he refused to talk about it.

"Look I'm sorry I asked Andy, okay? It's just that you've been so distant lately. I know I started the fight and I know that I was being a bitch!"

"I'm sorry Trace," Connor said with a sarcastic tone. "I guess I'm having a hard time getting used to the fact that I survived a near fatal injury from a speeding van."

"Well, it's only going to get harder if you're not going to talk about it…"

"Believe me Trace, even if I could tell you, you wouldn't even believe a single word I'd say. I sure as hell don't"

"Connie, you used to tell me everything."

"That's right. I used to tell you everything."

Tracy looked at Connor with pained look in her eyes and Connor was sorry for what he said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that…I'm… I'm sorry."

"Connie. Just tell me what happened. I mean, it can't be that bad. What did you discover in that place anyway, demons and vampires?"

Connor paled for a second but he quickly covered his discomfort and laughed at the joke that wasn't a joke. "I can't, Trace, okay? I just… Please, just… I can't be strong about this. Please! I'm scared and I just want to rest." Tracey saw the pain in Connor's eyes – his suffering. She didn't understand where all that pain and darkness came from. It was as if a deluge was erupting from within Connor's soul – something that shouldn't be there was escaping and it was consuming the Connor Reilly she knew. But it was all subconscious and she ignored the true depths of the problem.

It was already the last days of his high school life when Connor and his parents visited Wolfram and Hart. When they returned, it was not the same Connor they brought home with them. It was somebody else – somebody darker.

This new Connor Reilly was more secretive. He smiled and laughed. He made with the small talk. He did all the things that Connor Reilly had always done, but there was always something off about him. It was as if he was playacting – always trying to put on a façade, trying so very hard to be casual.

"It's the eyes," people who knew Connor would say in one form or another, "I can't quite put my finger on it but it's like there's a hidden depth there within those eyes – something that shouldn't even be there.

Laurence, Colleen and Connor's sister had noticed the change too but they were too confused to ask the right questions. All they could do was flounder in the dark, looking for some way to repair that unspoken connection with Connor, but always for naught.

However, the love was never damaged and it was still there, but there was something different about it all now. That difference was neither good nor evil. It was just different.

Everyone in the neighborhood had seen Connor's parents when they first came back from that Wolfram and Hart place. They looked like they had gone through some difficult ordeal. They did their best not to talk about the matter, which meant that whatever had happened, it was truly serious.

Tracey didn't like the changes and it eventually led to a good old fashioned fight. Suffice to say, it didn't end well. Tracey broke up with Connor - tears of rage running down her cheeks. After all they've been through. After all the time that they've spent together, Connor decided to just suddenly, from out of the blue, decide to become someone else and start keeping secrets. Goddam men!

Over the next few weeks leading up to prom, Connor had spent his time brooding. A lot of that time was spent on self-reflection. No one really knew the true depth of it except for Connor. No one could understand vampires, demons, hell dimensions or hell gods. All they really knew of the universe revolves around Sunday mass, mortgage sales and newspapers. No one understood the real score.

Except Connor. It was there in his head. The Orlon window had released more than just fragile memories. It also released power - unbridled power. Connor felt that power within him, coursing through his veins. That power was reaching out to something – something that terrified him in his sleep.

The memory of Tracy faded into something else. He remembered his entire family as a child – Laurence, Colleen, and even his sister Kit as a little baby - only now, the memory was like a corrupted code with bits and pieces of it missing.

A birthday party, a trip to the movies, and a sunny visit to the beach – There were pieces missing to them, and the old feeling of emptiness, of existential despair returned. And he felt himself slipping back into that dark moment when he tried to kill himself in that goods store.

Connor tried to grasp the missing threads of this memory but it kept slipping away, eluding his best efforts to keep it intact. It was like drowning, in one's own mind. Insanity and madness. That was it! Connor knew that he was going insane. Whatever Marastoth did to him, it was tearing away at the last bits and pieces of his humanity.

However, that was not what scared Connor. What scared him was that he was welcoming it – glad to be consumed by the darkness – to finally rest from the pain of having to go through life and the uncertainty of facing change in every waking moment.

He plunged back into the Quortoth's darkness, falling even further back into the pits of his own soul. Memories of the Kluthu gods, of Holtz, and of the dark tunnels that were buried beneath the world's surface, a labyrinth which lead further and further into eternity.

Connor felt this in his soul, taking over him. He expected this to be a ploy to accelerate the transformation of his demonic aspects, but something else was going on. . Connor felt himself turn into a mote, and the mote was suspended in darkness. It felt like madness, a battle between everything he knew - the human and the demon – and something else. He felt the touch of eternity. He had felt it before when he was awakened from the fugue of the Connor Reilly memories, but it was more than just awakening. He experienced something, more than what any human or demon could experience. This touch with eternity which was the home of his soul. It was the culmination of who he is and what he is. It corrected all the madness, both past and future. And he reveled in it, for he knew that this is what was supposed to happen. More than free will. More than destiny.

His human and demonic aspects staring into each other, and exposing both to be nothing more but illusions, the reality of who he really is finally exposed. Connor didn't understand what he was experiencing, nor did he think that he is meant to understand it. All he felt was certainty, a choice made in eternity and which echoes into life.

Connor felt lost in this sensation, but a voice summoned him back from the precipice of eternity. It was the voice of his human self. It was the voice of his powers, the demon within him. And something else.

"Connor, wake up," the voice commanded, "It's time to wake up." It was a female voice, a familiar female voice.

But Connor refused to listen. He wanted rest and sleep and peace. He languished in Coredlia's love, and among the faceless followers of Jasmine, his daughter. He felt nothing. He was nothing. And in this emptiness, all pain and all sorrow was ceased to be.

"Connor. People need you. You must wake up. Please."

The Kltuhu's face leered at him, daring him onward.

"Connor. Wake up." The light shown forth beckoning him to turn back from that eternity. "It's time to wake up."

"Dawn?" Connor asked, finally mustering enough will to ask.

"Yes, I'm here. I can help you. But you must wake up."

"I don't want to."

"I know, but a smart person once told me that the hardest thing in the world was to live in it. I'm asking you, please, find the strength to go on."

Connor remembered, remembered who he is, and in doing so, found a way to go back as he had so many times before, from Quortoth, from the despair of losing Cordelia, from the loss of his father and mentor Holtz, and now, Laurence.

And yet, something else was different. Something had changed. Connor had fixed something, something inside him, and this changed everything past and future. But it wasn't finished. He had to finish it, and he could only do it by going back.

"Connor, time to wake up," Dawn's voice commanded.

And Connor did just that.

* * *

Giles stopped the car near an alley and began their search by splitting into several groups. Outside, among the streets, there were hardly any people, and those who were present seemed to be in a hurry to get home. There was an evil mystery alive this night, and people felt it deep in their bones. This scared them. All pretense of civilization lost because of the knowledge of something unknown.

Good thing too. This made their search easier.

The alley looked liked an exposed, pulsating wound, bleeding like a tumor in the lonely night. Walls held a thick moisture as the distant sounds of the city screamed in a nightmarish shadow.

Dawn found Connor first. She knew where he was. When she found him, her gaze was stricken by the bits and pieces of human flesh near him,. She could not have known that to Connor, Laurence's – or what's left of him - represented Angel and Holtz - dead men and fathers. Whistler also saw this and went back into the car, muttering to himself. No one wanted to dissuade him. He was getting a bit unstable, and no one wanted to deal with that at the moment. He'll snap back to sanity soon enough.

Giles, Tracy and Dawn approached the almost Connor. They paused when some kind of demon jumped forward to bar their way. It looked like a metallic snake with claws, twisting its body in hostility. It hissed a menacing sound which caused Giles to put himself in between the creature and the girls.

"Relax," Tracy said, "that's Connor's… pet/sword thing-y."

Giles blanched at what she said. Whatever this thing may be it was clearly of demonic origins. Where did this boy get it?

Tracy pushed past the watcher and made eye contact with the Litany of the Abyss.

"Hey. Remember me." The creature snarled, it's metal like body twisting in open antagonism, but Tracy kept talking despite her fear. "Yeah, look we're here to help Connor. So you can either let us pass or we will figure out a way to take you out."

The Litany snarled and snapped Tracy, causing her to hide behind Giles again. The creature, as if understanding the situation, slid back into the shadows, letting the group pass, but watching them intently at the same time, red eyes glaring, making sure that they would not harm her master.

Dawn stared at Connor, while Giles tried to check up on Laurence's… remains.

"Mr. Reilly," Tracy whispered in despair. He had been so cool, when she was dating Connor in highschool. She remembered standing by them during the pregnancy scare. She can't believe he's dead.

Giles was more cool. He examined the mess, trying to ascertain the cause of death.

"Shit!" Tracy snapped and leaned back against the wall in despair.

"He killed himself. Sacrificed himself," Dawn explained, as she walked towards them.

"Why?" Giles asked.

"He was about to be possessed. He stopped that from happening," Dawn answered. This was his father – the father from his human memories - dead. She knew this by the psychic connection she had with him, and it galled her to imagine what could be going on in Connor's mind right now. Dawn was no stranger to a dead parent. She knew the pain, the fear and loneliness. She also knew how to deal with it, to put it into perspective, including the knowledge of living a fabricated memory-reality, but this…

She could only bring up memories of her mother. Joyce. The name conjured up a long lost pain.

And it was in this very moment, more than ever, that she understood why Whistler chose her to help him. They held a common bond. More specifically, a bond of humanity. When she first touched his mind with her own, it was not him that she really touched. It was his humanity, manufactured out of false memories for he was not human and never had been - just as she was not human. But hers was not slipping away, and so she was the only one who can save Connor's humanity - a valuable thread that's slowly slipping away.

She left Tracy and Giles behind, not really sure if they were following or not. She went back to Connor and saw that he had also tried to take his life… but something stopped him. And something happened. A demon? Dawn wondered. She didn't want to know. All she knew that she must not let him die.

As she knelt down, Dawn felt a deep connection with the angelic faced boy who had only recently tried to put himself out his misery. She understood what that felt like, the hidden pitfalls, the desire to be lost forever from the existential madness.

"Wake up Connor," she whispered to him.

Connor – Connor's humanity - felt Dawn's warmth. Her beauty. Her strength. She was incredibly strong, this young girl! Stronger than she might know. Connor understood real strength. He learned it the hard way, in Quortoth. He knew that it did not come from magicks, or power – it came from will and defiance – day after day of it. You can't grow up in hell without learning the value of true courage – to not give up, knowing that each day was a futile journey from one end of damnation to another.

Dawn's humanity reached out to him, and it reached back, dragging with it the greater power which sought to sleep into oblivion.

She was beautiful – her face bore soft tenderness, but there was fire in her eyes. She was beautiful, indeed, but, Connor was scared of her, at the same time – He suspected that she could see the _real_ him – the part that was neither man nor destroyer but something more – something else. And, he was terrified of that – terrified at what he would see through her eyes. Connor was afraid of what he will find out about himself through another person, and that was more terrifying than he could ever express.

Cordy, Jasmine and, sometimes, even Holtz… yes, even Holtz did not really know Connor – not the deepest side of him. Oh, sure he went along with their farce – and their little agendas, but it was always on the false hope that he mistakenly longed for – that somehow their motives in loving him were not cynical or self serving. But he always knew the truth – the truth that he, at some point or another, was clinging to a desperate illusion of false love - illusions. That's my life – going from one lie to another, hoping that the latest one is real. Trying the same thing, expecting different results. You really are insane.

But, they all turned out to be bitter disappointments – he just exchanged one set of lies after another; even this one, even the glorious reprieve that is Connor Reilly.

He didn't want to think about it – those mistakes – those failures. Even this, even his _family_ – they're all but an illusion of love.

I suppose, it's my fault too. I was so desperate to earn their love that I wasn't willing to show them what they wanted to see – until it was too late… for all of us. For me. All over again. _Dad_…

_It's not too late…_

Maybe the only thing that is real about me is that I am a demon. I wear humanity like a mask, hoping that it will be as real as I want it to be. But, they're just lies – Connor Reilly and Steven Holtz – big damn, fucking lies! I should've listened to Marastoth, Angelus. They know the truth… even when we were in Qourtoth.

"I don't want to be a demon," Connor muttered through the nausea and the painkillers.

_You're not a demon, Connor._

"I am. The human part in me is a lie – always had been. Just like old Angel – wearing a damn mask. You want to know why I don't want to be a demon?" Connor chuckled a bit. Dawn was scared of the hysteria in his voice. "It has nothing to do with being evil or being a champion of good – that's just something I used to tell myself to prove that I was Steven Holtz. No, the real reason was that… I didn't… want to be… alone. What would have become of me… if I couldn't be Steven Holtz or Connor Reilly or even Connor Angel? I'm scared of being alone." A slight laugh and he began to ramble. "Can you believe it? Me, a demon? A hell god perhaps? Me, the Anti-Christ? Hey, maybe they'll even make a movie about it? Or perhaps a book. Or better yet, a PS2 game? Wouldn't that be so badass?" Connor wept a bit after that inglorious prattle.

_Please, you must come back._

"Only Quortoth is real…. Only Power… I should have listened… In the end, they were right. I was wrong."

"That's not true," Dawn's voice became clearer. Solid sound.

"Isn't it? The only reason that everything is going to hell in a hand basket is because I chose to ignore what I knew to be true. I never wanted to be a god, or a messiah, or a champion. I only wanted to love… to be loved… Feel it… but, that's not real. None of it is…"

"Now you listen to me dammit! People do love you Connor. And, you have the capacity to love."

"I feel nothing... I'm nothing… I'm empty… That's what destruction is." His sight became focused and the darkness of the dream world had passed away to reveal the light once more. Connor looked at Dawn's face, confused and a little scared.

"How'd you find me?"

Dawn tapped Connor's head. "You can thank Whistler for that."

"I'm not thanking him for anything. I still don't trust him."

"He trusts you."

Connor ignored the last part and sat up. He was sitting on a couch. They, yes they, were in a small room. The lights dim and he smelled others in it. One was Tracy… Tracy? I told her to stay put. Dammit! The other was Whistler and the last one was an unidentified male. They were talking outside the room. He could hear what they were talking but he chose to ignore them for now.

"Where are we?"

"One of the Council's safehouses. We'll be safe here."

"There's no such place." Connor sorted out his memory, tried to think, think of what exactly was happening to him and what Marastoth had done to him. As he did this, he remembered his father. He's dead. He's dead. He wished it to be a dream but it wasn't. Laurence Reilly was dead. A nightmare made real. His life was collapsing.

"My dad…"

"Giles," Dawn licked lips thoughtfully, "he… he took care it. We'll take care of it." Dawn was hesitant but she asked nonetheless, "What happened to him?"

Connor spoke as if in a fugue. "He killed himself. Demons were trying to possess him… Marastoth blew it up just to piss me off." The gravity of the situation smashed into him once again. "Oh god… Dad." He put his head down and became very quiet, in pain and in suffering.

Dawn looked down. Despite the nightmare that was erupting all around them, she could not even begin to comprehend the living hell that Connor was suffering. His resolve was collapsing, and she desperately wanted to help.

"My mom… died. I know what it's like." She said awkwardly.

"Did your mom kill herself because a demon god was trying to possess her body?"

"No. It was an aneurysm."

Connor became quiet. The devil in him wanted to say something clever but the impulse quickly died away. And so he became deathly quiet. What happened next was both a surprise and unexpected.

Dawn drew close and gave kissed Connor on the lips. She didn't know if it was their psychic link or some unrequited attraction but she enjoyed the action very much.

Dawn didn't know what came over her, but she liked how the kiss felt. Strangely, he tasted like oreos… yes, oreos, smelled of sweat and tears – deep, primal and powerful but also quirky and naive. Filled with suffering and hidden knowledge. Dawn quickly pulled away as she realized that Connor wasn't returning her affections.

"We can never be lovers," Connor muttered, and he regretted saying that after he saw the pain in her eyes. "We're too much alike." The lie came easily. He didn't want to tell her the real reason. You can see me Dawn. You can see the real me. I'm afraid of that – terrified even. I only want people to see the human in me – it doesn't matter if it is broken or in good working order – I only want them to see the human part in me. I don't want to look into your eyes and see only the demon staring back. I can't. I'm scared of it.

"Besides, your sister and my old man did the ditty bang bang. The last thing I need is to have sex with an Aunt figure."

Dawn laughed it out, but she felt something within that may have been pain. "Sorry. I didn't know why I did that. It's just that…. Sorry. Sorry."

Connor remained quiet.

Dawn looked at him like she wanted to take him into her arms and tell him that it was going to be alright – this creature that had mercilessly slaughtered countless demons in a blind rage – this boy who was so utterly broken now. She tried talking to him but he didn't respond and so she remained quiet. She heard Giles and Tracy outside. They were talking. It was mostly Giles asking Tracy about what she knew about Connor.

Good, Dawn thought. She needed time to think. She looked at Connor again, who now looked liked he was waking up from his trance. They all needed time to think.

Several minutes of silence passed, and Dawn never left Connor's side. Giles and Tracy found them this way. They asked a few questions about Connor, and so did Dawn, but he gave no sign that he even heard them. He just sat there staring at empty space, living in a world only he could understand. All three of them had something to ask. How did Laurence die? What's going on? Are you okay? What happened? He ignored them all and just sat there.

Something was wrong with him – not evil – something else something dangerous. Tracy wanted to stay with him, but Giles motioned her to follow him so that they could discuss what she knew about Connor in further detail. And as much as he despised the idea of leaving Dawn with Connor, or any boy for that matter, he told her to watch over him and to report any changes in his state.

Moments passed before Connor made any overt move. When he did, he touched the scars on Dawn's belly.

"How do you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?"

"Find peace. You said it yourself. Half of your life's a lie. How can you go through each day knowing that you're nothing but an illusion?"

The words hurt Dawn – it was a reminder of something that she despised to think about. But here it was, reeling itself up again. Dawn wanted to snap at Connor but she didn't. There was something innocent in the way he said his words. That was the thing that Dawn found most intriguing about Connor. He seemed somehow innocent, like a little lost boy.

A little lost boy with dark and unnatural powers…

"Practice," she said shrugging her shoulders, "that and I have people who care about me." She took away Connor's hand from her belly. "I know you're hurting, and frankly, what you did was insane."

"Do what?"

Dawn pointed an accusing finger at Connor's bandaged wrists.

"You don't know what it's like," he rasped, "the human part in me – the part that had never been real. It's dying, turning into something else…"

"The demon is taking over?" she asked with serious concern. She knew what was inside him. She knew it from first hand experience when her mind touched his own.

"No, it's something else, something different. I don't know what it is exactly. I can't describe it. It's like I know that it was meant to happen and yet it's all tangled up." He looked at her gravely. "Marastoth – he did something to me. He released something that I was trying to bottle up."

Dawn didn't know what to say. "What's happening to you?" was all she could ask in a concealed tone.

* * *

Connor never answered her. His gaze became drawn inward and he became lost in whatever vision was within him. And so Dawn left to consult Giles on what to do next. Instead, she found Tracey sitting calmly on a nearby bench, looking a bit dazed.

"Trace, Where's Giles?"

"British guy? He went back to the car. He looked a little messed up after we found Connie. Guess he couldn't believe that a vampire's child existed. _I_ _still _couldn't believe it."

"Join the club," Dawn sat next to her. "Did Giles say anything?"

"Nope. Just got really quiet. He wanted to talk to Connor, but he thought it best to give him some space after the…" she shrugged, trying hard not to think about Connor's attempted suicide nor of the events that drove him to it.

That sobered Dawn up and she redirected the conversation elsewhere. "What did Giles do with… the um, body?" Tracy's face became even more grim. "We took it to the car. He said he could pull some strings, but…" her voice trailed off. "Is he okay?" Tracey asked finally.

"Yeah," Dawn lied with some misgiving. "He's _resting_ now."

Tracey looked haggard and tired. No one could blame her. Her entire life has been turned upside down these past few days. However, considering the circumstances, she was doing exceedingly well.

"I remember when I first met Connor, you know back when we were still kids. It was in fifth grade. I was having my badass goth phase and he was a crazy smart mouth little piss."

Despite herself, Dawn liked Tracey. She reminded her of all the strong women she grew up with. Regardless of the fact that she could have been Faith's long lost sister and the undeniable fact that she was two pills short of psychotic breakdown, Dawn found her honesty and candor very appealing.

"Everybody was always picking on him - the no-neck jock straps and the white trash deadbeats." Tracey lit a smoke and offered one to Dawn. Summers declined.

"I don't smoke."

Tracey shrugged and continued on with her story. "Me, I was running with a bad crowd at that time. My parents had recently gone through an ugly divorce and my mom ran off with some guy who was like 15 years younger than her. I was determined to reinvent myself into a bitch. It seemed," she laughed a little, "a good idea, you know?" Tracey was uneasy telling a stranger about her past – uneasy that she might not understand.

"Oh, believe me. I understand completely. Every girl these days seem to go through that kind of crap."

Tracey smiled, glad that she had understood. "Anyway, everybody enjoyed giving Connor a hard time. All the guys at school made it a point to kick his ass to prove a point. I lined up for the job too and I gotta tell ya, I think that SOB actually got off from having his ass kicked... You think I'm batshit crazy, don't you?"

"Hey, my sister's the slayer. Don't tell me what's crazy. I eat it for breakfast."

Tracy chuckled. "We hit off a little later. It was a great, kinky little time. Then college came…" she rolled her eyes. "then the drama, and then him going to that fucking law firm and…" she waved her hands, "then breaking up, then going to college, then seeing each other again in college, then trying out a long distance relationship, then failed and then back to more drama with all this messed up with demon magic hocus pocus crap."

"Welcome to my world," Dawn said flatly.

"Of course, none of it really happened, what with the whole fabricated memories and all." Tracy sighed deeply. Talking about all this felt good. "I wish I never stayed. I wish I never knew Connor's secret."

"Too late for that now. And besides, it's not like we had a choice." Dawn was referring to the hidden machinations of various forces and individuals, which conspired to bring all of them together.

Giles came back from the car, his hair tousled and looking even grimmer. In the distance, sirens began to wail and the deepening melancholia became even more pronounced, and the certainty of danger welled up inside them all.

"Dawn, may I speak with you," Giles motioned Dawn to follow him.

Dawn rose and stood before Dawn with a little awkwardness. She bit her lip nervously. "Look after him okay."

"Dawn wait." Tracey closed her eyes and she finally spoke. "You have a thing for him?"

"No." Dawn said a little too quickly. "Why? Do you still have a thing for your high school sweetheart?"

Tracey cocked her head to one side with a disturbed look. "Oh come on. You entered the guy's mind."

"I wish I hadn't."

Tracy chuckled to cover the awkward moment.

"I'm not trying to steal him if that's what you're thinking. Wait. No, it's not. It's just…" Tracy bit her lower lip.

"We live in the same demon-infested, magic-ridden world?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you're part of that now."

Tracy chuckled once more.

"And don't worry. He's cute, but I'm not stealing him from you," Dawn felt her chest tighten at the lie. He kissed Connor… "Girl rules."

Tracy did not speak, just smiled at her.

* * *

Giles lead Dawn to a small enclosure away from the sound of sirens. At first Giles had trouble framing his thoughts, but eventually he found his words.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He rambled a lot. He, um… something's changed in him."

"He's turning into a demon."

"No, something else. Not demon. Not human either. Giles, I don't think we really understand what's going on here."

"Well, we can all research it when we get back."

"Have you told Buffy yet?"

"Not yet. I want to wait until we get back home. In the meantime, I want you to tell me exactly what happened to him in the hotel, and why his father's dead."

"You already know."

"I want to hear it again and I want to hear it from you," Giles' voice was strict.

Considering her fatigue, her fears and the pressures, Dawn became nice and bitchy. "Connor's dad killed himself rather than be possessed by demon. Connor tried to kill himself rather than be possessed by a demon! How's that?"

Giles became grim. He had heard it all before, but he still could hardly believe any of it.

_Connor. Angel's son._

"What do you want from me, Giles?" Dawn said in an irritated tone. "I don't know what the hell he is. All I know is that he's turning into something…" She paused and then took back what she said. "I don't know what he's turning into, but it's messing with his mind."

Giles said nothing but he began cleaning his glasses and then took a very deep breath. "I didn't mean to push you, but your sister doesn't know we're here, and when I reveal to her our _little secret,_" Giles cocked his head in Connor's direction, "I want to tell her something convincing. _We_ need to tell her something convincing."

"I know, but it's not as simple as that!" Dawn sat down and her shoulders sagged in defeat. Giles sat down next to her and held her close.

"You're not enamored with the lad are you?" Giles teased.

Dawn frowned at the watcher. "It's nothing like that. It's something else."

"Oh? Well, I'm glad it's strictly platon…"

"Giles, be serious. I'm trying to tell you something."

"Sorry. Do continue."

"He's changed. It's like he used to be this divided being - half human and half demon. Two parts fighting each other in one body."

"You knew this because of your link with him?"

Dawn nodded.

Giles' face became grim. "How has that changed?"

"They're gone now. The only that remains is this… this thing that I'm not sure I really understand."

Giles became thoughtful. He needs to contact Buffy, and soon. Looking at Dawn, he was going to ask another action, but it was interrupted by a sudden rumbling and the sound sirens.

Tracy and Whistler barged into the room, as surprised as everyone else. Giles took the lead to take a peek from a nearby window and signaled the others to remain where they are as he tried to examine exactly what was going on outside. What greeted him was a terrifying site, for outside the streets of Los Angeles were covered by a menacing fog. No area of space was spared from this phenomenon, and something told Giles that is was going to become a lot worse.

Outside, people were already beginning to panic, trying to find shelter and a way to safety. Those who were caught by the vile gas were struck down.

Dawn pushed her way past Giles to see what was going.

"Giles, what's happeni… Oh."

And the fog spread like vile pus throughout the city.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Making Sense of the World

Ashley was a good Slayer, but before she was summoned to her calling, she had been a good tracker. Sometimes, the latter proved to be more useful than the former.

When she received instructions from a mysterious phone call to save Aidan, she was also given directions on where to find him as well as how to revive him. She made a quick stop at a small warehouse where she retrieved a small box, she then proceeded to one of LA's piers, where she managed to find signs of blood and struggle. Eventually, this led her to one of the docks, where she found a lone Turok Han dragging what appeared to be a body.

Dispatching the demon was no simple matter. Nonetheless, she was able to defeat it while sustaining only a couple of scratches. The body turned out to be Aidan. He was still alive – barely alive.

Ashley took out the small box and removed a syringe. She then plunged it into Aidan's inert form. She didn't know what this will do, but she was instructed that it would save the watcher's life. So she could only hope that none of this was a mistake and that she was doing the right thing.

Whatever it was within the syringe, it was reviving Aidan. For his body convulsed into spasms and his black veins began spreading throughout his body. Where his breathing had been weak, it now began to pick up strength. Aidan awoke with a hard gasp and saw the slayer watching over him. Her face looked stony against the night sky.

"Hey," Aidan muttered.

"Hi," the slayer answered.

It took Aidan a few moments, to find his composure. "Thanks for saving my life…"

"Save it," Ashley snapped with uncharacteristic steel, "I don't know all that much about you or what your agenda is, but I do know that you're playing a crooked game here."

"Yeah, I… uh,"

"Don't interrupt me. You're charged with murder… with Treason, with god knows what… However, I do know that you know what's going on."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do." Ashley produced a bound leather journal – Aidan's journal. The one he had been carrying around.

"Oh. So how much do you know?"

Ashley threw the journal on Aidan's lap. "Everything there."

"My journal," Aidan said sadly, "how'd you find it?"

"I got a call. Didn't know who though. Told me that your little diary would fill in the blanks."

"How convenient." Aidan got up but fell down once more, wondering who it was who called her. "So you know about Sirk and Pryce." The slayer nodded her head. "Well, let me fill in the missing spaces. They're not the only ones out to screw the Universe. Malcolm Ingram is also in on the loop."

"I know. My mysterious call said as much. You were working for Sirk and Pryce," she accused.

"Yes, I worked for them."

"To betray the council? The slayers?"

"We better get going."

"Answer the question!"

"Yes!" The answer came out like a hard lump. "Yes. That was the idea. The old guard wanted the council back to the way it was. It doesn't matter now. They're both dead, and their accomplices back across the pond have probably scattered like rats by now. So what are you going to do now? Get me back to the council to stand trial?"

"That can wait," the slayer answered, "and besides, you don't look too well."

"I'll live. Any news about council?"

"Everyone's spread thin right now. It seems like demons are getting worked up for something. Slayers, watchers, anybody not nailed down is trying to get a hold of things, but…"

"The situation is just grim."

"Aidan, what's going on?"

Aidan told her, as much as he knew anyway. From the reason he was here all the way up to his near fatal meeting with Malcolm. It was tough. By the time he finished, she looked like she was either going to burst out laughing or collapse in despair. Aidan took the initiative to ask a few things, including what had happened to Sirk, Pryce and their ill advised coup.

"Dead," Ashley answered, "The council took care of the body. Some of the girls are gossiping that Rupert Giles had a fit when they brought him the news about you and your splinter cell." Ashley sighed. She didn't know what to say to the watcher. On the one hand he was treasonous bastard who kept secrets and was someone who worked for a split group of watchers. But, on the other hand, he saved a lot of lives. Ashley was terribly confused, she didn't know how she should treat this… thing or whatever he is. So she just kept quiet.

"Too bad," Aidan muttered, wasting no sorrow over Sirk, but inside, he was troubled. Price and Sirk were supposed to be one of the best in this line of work. "Bloody Nuisance. We need to move… We need to… ahhh! Warn the others!"

"_I'll _warn the others. You need to go to a hospital. You're not exactly looking too sharp."

Aidan looked at Ashley - his face and his body – looking like a pincushion, and he grinned as an animated cadaver would. His hair was in disarray. Blotches of red were all over his body. His complexion was dead white. His pupils were barely visible, and large black veins covered most of his wounds. If Ashley was not a slayer she was sure she would have puked at the sight of him. "I'm just fine and dandy, luv."

"Aidan! Stop being a guy for a moment and listen to reason."

"Dammit to hell woman!"

"You're injured, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that last part. And besides, do you have a death wish? Look at you. You can barely walk."

"I don't care. We need to stop Malcolm. We need to stop him now."

"What is he doing?"

"He's helping the First. They're up to something."

She paused but she said nothing. Aidan would not indulge a moment of self-pity and began attempting to get up once more, this time succeeding in standing up shakily.

"Don't. You'll hurt yourself."

"We have to find Malcolm."

"The council will do that. You need a doctor."

"Do I detect a hint of concern in your voice?"

"Don't get the wrong ideas buddy. You're still in big trouble."

"Sorry overstepped myself there. But nothing's changed we are desperately short of time. We need to gather up all the slayers available in the city. Thing's are going to get very very ugly."

"Sorry. That's not gonna happen," Ashley answered quickly.

"What?"

"We're spread thin Aidan. Everybody's busy fighting off an unidentified number of demons that have been converging in areas near LA these past few weeks..."

"The Kluthu'kar," Aidan muttered.

"You know what they are?"

"Yes, keep going."

"They've suddenly spilled outside our city limits and even now, are beginning to trying to set up positions. Every slayer in California is being assigned a squad and told to fight them off."

"That can't be good," Aidan muttered to himself."

"No, it isn't good. I told you what I know. Now, you tell me what you know."

"The Kluthu'kar are only a diversion, and they're not your only problem."

"Just tell me what's going on."

"I will. Help me up," Ashley helped the watcher limp his way out of the pier, "I'll explain along the way," he then looked at the slayer intently, the slayer that he was supposed to watch over, "and you can tell me all about the oh so mysterious phone call that brought you here."

* * *

5:00 AM

Lawin flew over LA in the form of a small bird of prey, sensing the massive amount of energies that now seemed to permeate the entire city. It was something else, a deepening infection that seemed to spread out across the entire world.

This was ground zero. LA was ground zero. He landed near an alley and transformed back into human. In the distance, he could hear the wail of police sirens, of the subtle hysteria waiting to explode. It's almost there. What happened these past few weeks will pale compared to what is about to happen. Lawin leaned against a nearby wall and drank his entire alcohol flask empty.

_Keep drinking. That'll help. _

"I'm screwed. We're all screwed. Let me drink"

_Drinking your brain out will not help._

"Shut up."

_Okay, I'll shut up, but we both know that you're being weakling._

Lawin let the empty flask drop and then stared out into space. He was about to make a terse response when a commanding voice took away his attention.

"Lawin!" a stern voice called out his name. The young Scion turned to see that it was Malachi. The mentalist looked a bit haggard but not unkempt. "You!"

"Yes me. How long were you planning to feel sorry for yourself?" Malachi asked.

"As long as I have to," Lawin said flatly, "I heard Connor killed you."

"He did," Malachi answered, "the Powers then gave me a new body."

Lawin cocked an eyebrow.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Right now, we need to find Travers and Connor."

"What do you mean _we_? There is no we."

Malachi looked at Lawin intently. "You want the same thing I want: To keep this world from being blown up. The same thing holds true for them."

"Try another line, Mal. That one's getting old. And, you're being presumptuous," Lawin said sardonically and took a step back, as if to walk away but he didn't.

"I presume nothing. You and I both know what's at stake. We have a better chance at dealing with this mess together than alone."

Lawin's countenance became grim. He knew this to be true but he didn't have to like it. _He's right, you know. You have a better chance as a team._

_And Anash? We must stop her._

_And then what? In case you forgot, she's not the only threat. We need help. You need help. So do they._

"We will help each other, Lawin De La Vega of the Zarakim. We will each other because it is the only thing you and anyone can do."

Lawin swallowed hard. He had to get something out of the way. "We betrayed Connor."

"He betrayed us, and we pretty much betrayed each other. Don't act so pure and pretty." Malachi answered, referring to Connor's ill-made plans to save the late Laurence Reilly.

"He tried to save his father. I would hardly call it a black and white situation."

"I know and we betrayed him because he was being used by the Destroyer."

"You betrayed us by working with the Kluthu," Lawin persisted.

"And you lied to me about killing your mentor, Anash, who last I heard is planning to cast a very nasty spell! The same goes with Aidan with his watcher buddies!"

"Okay!" Lawin snapped. "Shut up! We're all assholes. Don't get your panties in a knot. I just hope you have a plan to sweet talk Connor and Travers, cause you did crap with me."

"I'm working on that. Come on." As Malachi began to walk, Lawin noticed something underneath his black jacket. It looked like a small glowing cube.

"Is that an Orlon Window?" Lawin asked.

Malachi cursed himself for not hiding the damned thing properly.

"May I ask what that's for?"

"Loose ends," Malachi answered quietly.

For the past hour or so, Giles kept staring at Connor. It was the kind of stare a predator when stalking its prey.

"Will you stop staring at me?" Connor snapped at Giles.

"Sorry." Giles looked at Connor intently then backed off. "I'm sorry. It's just…" Giles looked like he was about to jump up and down in joy. "Sorry." He then began rubbing his glasses vigorously and pacing around.

"We still have a problem."

"Yes, the smog that has covered Los Angeles." Giles looked at Connor again - more intently this time. "You want to dissect me, don't you? Come on. Say it. You want to cut me open and see exactly how I work."

Although he knew that Connor was messing with him, Giles blanched a bit. He was annoyed that his curiosity was getting the best of him and that he was powerless to examine this strange creature - this child of two vampires. When this began, he wanted answers, but his discovery of Connor along with the work that he's done these past few days only raised new questions. It was very frustrating.

One thing's for certain though. He's telling Buffy… about Connor (And what that inevitably means - Angel), the extent of the demonic incursion, and the hidden lies and deceit that was weaved for all these events to happen. He had delayed long enough. Dawn had delayed long enough.

There would be no more secrets.

"No more secrets," he muttered.

Connor heard him but showed no sign that he heard. He knew well enough what was going on inside Giles' head. It doesn't take a telepath to sense what was going on in his mind. Connor wanted to talk to him about it, sort out the confusion, but his phone rang unexpectedly.

Mom? Connor was suddenly worried. Surviving the emotional beating of Laurence's death was one thing. Figuring out what to tell his mother and sister about it was another matter entirely.

Connor's answered his phone and to his surprise and relief, it wasn't his mother or Kit. It was Malachi. "Hello Connor," Malachi greeted.

"I killed you," Connor answered calmly, not the least bit surprised.

"You destroyed my body, nothing more. The powers simply gave me a new one," Malachi answered with a hint of amusement in his voice."

"I can kill you again if you want." With the way the conversation was going about killing, Giles couldn't help but feel an icy chill run down the base of his spine.

"I'll consider the offer, but right now, I need to talk to the watcher who's standing right next to you." Connor looked at Giles and then lowered his gaze once more. "I need to talk to him."

"Who's that?" Giles asked. Dawn and Tracy had entered the room as well after hearing the phone's ringing.

"Who's that?" Dawn asked excitedly.

Connor raised his hand for some quiet.

"Why?" he asked Mal. "Why do you want to talk to Giles?"

"To help him protect the slayers. Something's come up."

"You can tell me. After all," a bitter tone of humor entered Connor's voice, "we're buddies, right?"

"If you must know, a fog is spreading throughout LA. It's main purpose is to exterminate the slayers, but it's also being used as a diversion."

"I already know about the disease ridden fog. What's the diversion for?"

"You know the answer already."

Judging from Malachi's tone of voice, Connor quickly understood what was going on. "The Deeper Well, it's in LA isn't it? How did Marastoth do it?"

"I don't know, and that's the truth. Now, will you let me talk to the watcher?"

"We still have a lot to talk about Mal," Connor said seriously. "He wants to talk to you," Connor threw the phone to Giles.

Giles caught the phone and looked at Whistler briefly before answering. "Who is this?"

"The biggest dick in the world," Connor answered laconically.

Giles ignored him and listened to the mystery man. "Mr. Rupert Giles. An Honor. Please refrain from interrupting me as we have very little time. As you may have surmised, I am an… associate of the little monster you have there next to you. I am also an associate of Whistler, albeit loosely, considering his recent betrayals." Giles looked at Whistler briefly and saw that the demon looked edgy. "However, that's not why we are talking. An event has recently emerged. As you can plainly see outside, a massive fog has covered the city and is causing quite a panic. We both know it's supernatural, and you can expect it to get a whole lot worse."

"How worse?" Giles asked.

"How many slayers do you have in LA now?"

Giles became still. The answer was more than half of all the slayers under council control. This whole thing was a trap. "This smog - this spell. It's here to kill slayers?"

"That's one reason. The other reason is that they want to distract people. A few thousand dead will cause chaos – leaving the uh… _enemy _to do as it wants."

"To do what?"

"A battle that will decide the future," Malachi continued, "Mr. Giles, I don't have much time. If you want to help, you will listen to me very carefully. I have with me the means to help you, but you must trust me. You can meet me in this address." Malachi gave Giles the address. "And bring Connor with you."

"And why should I trust you?" Giles snapped.

"Let me put it this way, what choice have you got?"

Giles took the phone away from his ear and looked at Connor.

"Told you he was dick," Connor said.

"Very well. We'll meet you there." The call ended.

"Apparently, you're right He is a twat." Giles answered exasperatingly.

* * *

When Giles met Malachi, he wasn't impressed. The voice on the phone sounded like an old soul. Malachi appeared… too young, certainly no older than Xander when they first met. Nonetheless, there was something wrong about him, something that should not be. He wasn't human, and he moved about like an old man.

"Mr. Giles," Malachi thrust out his hand in greeting, "you will pardon my lack pleasantries but we are pressed for time. I take it Aidan will be with us?"

"I followed your instructions to the letter," Giles answered blandly. One of Malachi's instructions was to call Aidan to where they were.

"Good. Then please follow me."

"Terribly sorry. I'm not taking another step unless you tell me the answers I want."

Malachi looked at Giles and his company. Dawn and Tracy looked haggard but strong. Whistler was with them, and the demon made it a point to stay away from Malachi.

"Hello Whistler," Malachi said pleasantly.

"Mal," Whistler answered with surliness.

Malachi smiled and turned back to Giles. "How much did he tell you?" he asked pointing Whistler.

"Enough. I just need you to fill in the missing pieces." Giles turned his gaze towards Connor and Lawin. There was no mistaking his questions. He wanted to know what the boys have been doing these past few weeks.

"Lawin," Connor greeted Lawin who was standing quietly behind Malachi. There was hint of resentment and hostility in his voice.

"Connor," Lawin responded in the same tone of voice then drank from his flask.

"Still drinking a lot I see," Connor said snidely.

"Pretty much," Lawin answered. "Any plans once you're done singing Crawling in My Skin?"

Connor shrugged as if the insult meant nothing.

"Where's Traverse?" Connor asked.

"He'll be here momentarily."

"You two sure figured everything out didn't you?" Connor said with mirth.

"Don't insult me, boy," Malachi snapped and emphasized the _boy _part_._

Giles intervened before the fight could erupt. "Right. Now that we've finished with the introductions, I'd like to get straight to business."

"Very well." Malachi answered. "Follow me."

Connor tried to stop Giles but the watcher assured him that he'll be fine. Connor nodded his head and began to walk away with Lawin while Whistler, Mal and Giles entered a small room.

Once there, the mentalist took out a glowing orb and revealed it to Giles. "This artifact will tell you everything you need to know." Giles peered into the sphere and within it shapes and colors danced like so many fairies. However, as he peered closer into that abyss made of light, he was shocked unconscious.

"Which is nothing," Malachi sad without mirth. "You don't need to know anything Mr. Giles." Whistler didn't say anything. He just stared at Malachi with uncharacteristic stoicism.

"You made a mess," Malachi said.

"So did you." Whistler responded.

"We have a lot to clean up then."

Seeing the flash of light erupt caused Connor, Dawn, Tracy and Giles barged into the room. Connor arrived just in time to see Giles collapse to the ground, a terrible darkness coming over him. He knew what had happened. He hoped that he was wrong but he knew what had happened. The darkness within him turned into pain then into despair. Dawn yelled something but no one heard her over the din that came from Malachi and Connor arguing. "Malachi!" He called out to the mentalist. "What did you do to him?"

Before Connor could utter another word, Malachi aimed the orb at Dawn and Tracy, causing them to collapse as well.

"I did what I had to do. You and I both know that it was the only way."

Connor's face twisted into a feral snarl. "You son of a bitch! What did you do?" Connor ran towards Malachi, anger and rage in every fiber of his movement.

"I wiped his memories clean. We cannot allow him, slayers or anyone else to interfere at this point of the conflict. There's too much at stake!"

"You son of a bitch!"

"He knows too much and that makes him dangerous!"

"So you ass rape his brain? Dammit! That's the last thing we need right now!"

"Oh, you bet it is. Mr. Rupert Giles hasn't the foggiest idea about what's going on."

"And you do?" Connor asked snidely.

"Don't tempt me Connor. I did what I had to do to stop a desperate situation from escalating into a disaster."

"A disaster? He was gonna help us."

"No one can help us! Don't you get it? The Slayers have their battle, and the same thing goes for us. I did what I had to do. The slayers are safe for now, but if we involve them into this, things will just spiral out of control! I did what I had to do."

"You did what you wanted. Nothing more, you backstabbing sonuvabitch."

"This is an already fucked up situation. You don't want to make it worse."

"You mind wiped them. What's to stop you from doing the same to us?"

Malachi frowned. "I mindwiped Giles. Only Giles. Dawn and Tracy are safe provided they don't get in the way."

"You didn't answer my question Mal. What's to stop you from doing the same to us?"

"Because I need your help," Malachi snapped.

"So you say," Lawin said quietly, "What about the girls? They'll find out what you did to the watcher and they won't like it."

Malachi smiled. "Don't worry. I have a plan and Whistler will explain it to them when they wake up."

Connor raised an eyebrow. He wondered what devilment was inside Malachi's head this time. "Whistler's on your side now?"

"He's on the side that he's always been. His own and the powers. He knows what's at stake here. It's like what I've always said. There are no permanent friends or enemies. Only permanent interests."

"Spare me the lecture. I'm not in the mood for it now."

"Well, perhaps you're in the mood for what I have to say."

"In less than 4 hours, every man, woman and child in this city will be dead from a demonic plague. Regardless of our feelings, I don't think you or I want that."

Connor grinned a bit, looking even more feral than before. "Nice try, but I ain't biting."

Malachi grinned back. He knew he'd say that, so he saved the best for last. "You need me to find Angel."

"What?" Connor was caught off guard by that.

"Angel. You know the prophecy about the coming strife. In case you've forgotten, Angel is the catalyst. You need to find him. We need to find him… for the final phase of your transformation. You need me to do that."

"Angel can end this?" Connor waved his hand at the mess around them."

"He will play a very important part in it."

"I'm sick of your riddles." Connor snapped.

"Nonetheless, you know full well that we need to find him. You know this deep inside of you. You need me."

Connor became quiet.

"I don't like it either Reilly," Lawin said, "but he's right we need his help. We need each other's help."

Connor glared at Lawin. Both them distrusted each other, had always distrusted each other, but once more circumstances put them into a difficult dilemma.

"Connor," Malachi began, "I know what I did was evil in your eyes, allying myself with Marastoth, using you like a puppet… but I did what I thought was right. Selfish or not, that was the best I could do."

"No different than I," Connor said wearily. He cast a weary look at Malachi which said, that although he would rather drink a bottle of cyanide, he was in.

* * *

"You're not really going to trust him after all he did, are you?" Tracy asked flabbergasted. Connor explained the situation to Tracy, while Malachi explained it to Dawn.

"It's complicated, Trace. I need his help. All the trust and treachery in the world cannot change that."

"It's not about need. What if he's planning to kill you?"

"He's not," Connor said with certainty.

"And you know this for sure?"

"Completely."

"Yeah, well. You better pray he's planning to kill you. Because if he betrays you again, I'm kicking your sorry ass for being a dumbass…" Connor's face did not break into a smile or chuckle, so Tracy brought out the heavies. "Or give you the _punishment _of a lifetime." The tone was both naughty and humorous, but in fearful and tense way.

Connor laughed on with that one. "I'm going to be fine, Trace. I promise. No need to get worked up over your ex-boyfriend-slash-not-so-ex-boyfriend-with-benefits"

"You're my bitch and I'm your mommy. And you better keep your ass alive. That's my property."

Connor laughed even more heartily. "I still can't believe I broke up with you," Connor said with an awkward smile.

"Spare me the mushy teen crap, Reilly. It's the damned apocalypse," Tracy answered playfully. "So what happens now?"

Connor shrugged his shoulders. "It's strange. It's like I know what to do and yet I don't know why or how to do it."

"It's always gotta be complicated with you isn't it?"

"It's not really all that complicated when you understand how it all works."

"And how does it work."

"The unknown," Connor spoke quietly.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"So did our entire relationship."

Tracy laughed and Connor smiled. She began talking about something inconsequential but he wasn't listening.. He reached out his hand and slipped a piece of paper into her coat. He held her to make sure that she doesn't move.

"Give that to Dawn," he whispered.

"So you have a plan something?"

"Always did. Oh and one last thing," he leaned close and kissed her deeply. "No more heroics okay?"

He left before she could think of something witty to say.

* * *

The boys quickly left. Dawn and Tracy, along with Whistler said their goodbyes to them. They, along with Giles, will go back to the Slayers and the Scoobies to help. They already have an alibi on why they were missing. It was up to Connor and his little band now. They each have their parts to play.

Whistler grabbed Connor's arm and looked at him intently. "Remember kid. Whatever you might discover, You are Angel's son. Face darkness and defeat it, just as your father did before you."

Connor pulled away from Whistler. He didn't say anything but he was grateful even now that the smog began to envelope the entire city.

"This is bad," Lawin muttered.

Connor ignored him. He turned to Malachi again. "Before I continue, I want you to answer something."

"It's always something with you, isn't it?"

"What did Whistler say to Dawn to get her cooperation?"

"He offered her a deal. An exchange, on behalf of the powers that be." Malachi said crisply, hoping it would end at that.

"What kind of exchange?" Connor repeated the question more loudly. "What kind of exchange, dammit?"

Malachi face became grim. "Buffy Summers is destined to die tonight. The Powers have seen it. It is fate. Dawn will help us in exchange for her life."

"What?" Connor was dumbstruck.

"Her sister, Buffy is meant to die tonight. It was destined… sort of. Everything's a mess right now. The powers were willing to allow this happen… that is until our latest problems popped up."

"I don't get this. What do you mean the powers were willing to let this happen?"

"Gods help me! We're talking about the powers, Connor. The powers that be. They have within their power to control the very heavens themselves. I assure life and death are mere arbitrary options for them. The fates themselves bow to their whims. In this case, Buffy Summers' life was meant to end today. A lot of people's lives were meant to end today, including… Laurence." Malachi was going to say Angel but he managed to stop himself just short of uttering the name.

"And in exchange for her silence and willing participation in your plan, she get's to save her sister's life," Connor said coldly.

"Yes," Malachi answered without emotion.

"Dawn will keep the secret in exchange for Buffy's life." Malachi wanted to say something else, but Lawin interrupted him.

"Sheep boy's here," Lawin announced grimly.

The watcher walked up to his 'allies' looking like hell. He was covered in dried blood and bandages. His skin was covered by the black marks and veins which was now allowing his body to repair itself.

The watcher walked up to them quietly. He glared at Lawin first then looked at Connor and Malachi. The other three glared back at him. There was no love among them, only mutual hatred and perhaps a mutual respect for each other's ruthlessness. A dark hatred seemed to permeate each of them, goading them to violence.

Connor looked at Aidan briefly then returned his attention to Malachi.

"Tell me more about what you have planned for Dawn."

"There's nothing more to tell," Malachi answered.

"I don't believe you."

Aidan looked at one then to another. Always quiet. Lawin stood impassively, somehow becoming more dangerous with each passing moment.

"I told you everything I know," Malachi sneered.

"You're partially responsible for my father's death – for Laurence Reilly's death. You owe me an answer."

"I did not kill your father! The First evil killed him! So don't even start!" Malachi snapped.

"If you hadn't used me like a fucking pawn, I could have saved him." Connor Reilly said this. The human in Connor asserting itself.

"Don't pin this on me! Laurence Reilly died because the first was trying to get to you." Malachi sneered.

"He does have point, Reilly." Lawin said quietly.

"Stay out this!" Connor hissed back at the Scion.

Aidan mentioned something that they did not hear.

Soon enough Lawin and Aidan got dragged into the fight. Each one accused each other of some imagined treachery, and before long they were hurling insults at each other.

"You backstabbing…" Lawin snarled.

"Godrotting…" Aidan roared.

"Shitfaced…" Malachi snapped.

"Son of a Bitch!" Connor yelled.

Each one was surprised at the sudden explosion of rage and pain, but they were more surprised that they said the same things to each other, accused each other of the same sins. The boys saw something in each other they didn't like, or perhaps they were just looking at their own reflections. Either way, they didn't like what they saw. They had all pursued their own agendas, each one in his own way, believing that he was morally superior to the other, but knowing full well that that was all bull. Each of them muttered their apologies, and let go of the momentary outburst. Pursuing it would be pointless. Nothing's changed. They didn't like each other but they still have to work together.

"Right, we are obviously going nowhere by arguing like douches."

"Agreed. So what's the plan?"

"You're asking me?" Malachi asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be the Wizard of Oz, the man behind the curtain?"

"If only I were, but we are past the point of planning and surgical strikes."

"And what point are we in now?" Connor asked.

"You tell me Connor," Malachi said, "you're supposed to be the one who's destined to resolve the paradox."

Everyone looked at Connor. "Okay, let's examine priorities. Marastoth said that the First is hiding in one of the council's safe houses. And assuming we trust a hell god, that's our only lead."

"Malcolm is working for the First," Aidan said, "so if we can find him. We can find the source of this bloody smog."

"That's not our only problem though," Lawin spoke up, Anash may be trying to cast a spell."

"A spell?" Aidan asked.

"She's planning to turn every slayer into a demon, and after them a large chunk of humanity, to help her fight whatever nasties pop out of the deeper well. Don't ask how – all I can tell you that it's going to be a bitch. She already did to herself and her minions. She believes that this is the only to stop Marastoth and the First. "

"Dammit! Just what we need. Another army of demons." Connor cursed. "What are her chances of succeeding?"

"Don't know. One thing's for sure though. I gotta intercept her before she does."

"And of course, we can't forget about Marastoth," Connor reminded them and he looked at Malachi with accusing eyes.

"Yes, Marastoth," Malachi replied bitterly, "he wants to open the Deeper Well. He must be stopped."

Malachi glared back at the watcher and then back at Connor. Lawin too was looking at him intently. The mentalist – the great servant of the powers that be – had once been allied with the Kluthu because the powers told him to, and _for the good of the mission_. They wanted a guarantee that that was no longer the case.

"I'm not working with Marastoth anymore," Malachi said simply, "and if you don't believe that there's really nothing I can do."

Connor, Aidan and Lawin said nothing, but it was clear that they were still distrustful of him. Connor decided to break the silence. "So what's the plan?"

And thus the final battle begins.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Countdown to the Apocalypse

* * *

Twenty Fifth Entry.

* * *

No wonder the warlocks wanted subjugation of the barbarians, they wanted something from their enemies. The brutes possessed knowledge vital to the opening dimensional portals. Unfortunately for the Nog Hototh, constant civil war had extinguished most of their powers, reducing what was left of their once awesome abilities into bits and pieces of religious legend.

Steven, now the new king of the wretched brutes, has promised his subjects vengeance and glory on their oppressors which is another way of saying that he was going to assemble an army to kill the Kluthu'kar expeditionary force that has been sent to recapture us. But in spite of everything, the different clans are now aligned with us and prepared to march against the Kluthu'kar. In truth, we are simply using them to facilitate our escape from the warlocks. If God wills it, the two demonic races will simply kill each other once and for all. And we could well be on our way to getting away amidst the carnage.

That was the plan, of course, until my new discovery of their shrines. Now, it is more complicated than that. Steven thinks that if he can somehow operate the now defunct runes inscribed on the shrines then we may return home. Unfortunately, he told me that it would need a beacon from Earth in order for it to operate properly. It was a dead end. That was all cause for continued attention, of course, but at the moment my attention was drawn to Steven. He has been quiet for quite some time now, more recluse and easily irritated. This is most troubling to me for we both know what it is and yet we do not know _what it really is_.

While Steven was too busy planning strategy with the Nog Hototh's warriors. It was up to me to plan a way to cure my son of demonic corruption. I gathered all the shamans of the Nog Hototh barbarians and asked them for their counsel with regards to Steven.

Let me tell you that the thorough _observations _of the shamans on my son has caused the demonic pagan priests to cry out in terror. They told me that whatever the Kluthu'kar did to Steven, it was not a product of anything external, it was the product of (I now use their words) removing the inhibitions of Steven's powers. They told me that he was somehow turning into a very powerful _god_. I did care about that. Hell god or not, my son was being ravaged from within. I asked the shamans for a cure.

Even under torture, they said there was none…

The Nog Hototh were mysteriously losing their shamans. I had to stop torturing the wretches and find a way to reverse the process myself, but how? This question was fortuitously answered by a young apprentice who was recently elevated because his master was found dead and mangled on the edge of his village. I wish to say more about that matter but I am urgently needed elsewhere.

I must return to work for now. I still need to make a suitable alibi on where I was when the Shaman was killed.

* * *

_I still dream of the past, a past that never was. Sometimes, I still have trouble distinguishing my two pasts. Every time I close my eyes, the memories rush back into me. Memories. Just memories. Nothing more. Were they though?_

_I've always chosen the truths I like. Why not this one? It's tempting, but I know that this more than just memories or truth. This is about who and what I choose to be, and before I can do that I have to know who and what I am _

_

* * *

_

Several Years Ago

Connor opened his eyes from his shallow sleep. There was something about make up sex that was so very calming. Connor turned to look at Tracy who was stretching like a contented cat. She looked up at him with mischievous eyes and smiled.

They had been dating for a while now, and fooling around long before that. It wasn't well known yet, which was a good thing because Tracy's old man would probably have threatened to castrate Connor if he knew about the relationship. Tracy ran her hand over his buttocks and he laughed at the racy behavior.

"You remember when we first, you know…" He asked her with a goofy smile on his face.

"Did it?"

"Made love."

"Oh! You mean fuck."

Connor sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Damn! You're an overgrown prud." Tracey inched closer to Connor, nose ring and black mascara prominent on her beautiful face. "Yes, I remember. It was one of the best nights of my life," she purred.

"Yeah, mine too," Connor responded, "then you threatened to kill me if I told anyone."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did. You got dumped by that Goth guy you were dating and you were crying your eyes out."

"I wasn't crying. I was commiserating…" Tracey crossed her arms.

"Yeah, with a bucket of ice cream and a Sarah MacLachlan CD while you were inside your dad's car."

"I wasn't crying."

"Fine. Whatever. When did that happen again?"

"Junior high."

"Right, now I remember. I still used to pick on you…"

"Along with the wet willies and the… touching. It felt like kindergarten."

"And you walked up to me, and instead of kicking the living crap out of you, we made out."

"Damn!" Connor snickered. "That sounds like the story line from a teen movie."

"Oh shut it."

"… and then afterwards, you began experimenting on me," Connor reached under the blanket and took out a pair of handcuffs."

"You should talk. You liked it."

"No, you liked it. I went along with it."

"Yeah, yeah. It's all on me, whatever," Tracy traced the line of his chin and kissed him playfully, "Now, give mommy a kiss."

Connor protested a bit but gave her a long deep kiss, and they made love once more. The world was perfect. The world was safe, and he needed for little else. At home, his parents were safe. His sister was safe. His family and all his friends – all safe, and the future was certain, not a gaping hole that was constantly threatening him. His eyes became heavy and he fell back to silent sleep once more.

And then it shattered, as all sweet illusions do.

"Connor!" A male voice demanded of his attention.

His eyes screamed for sleep but he kept them open, even as the dark rings began to spread around his eyes.

"Connor!" Lawin's voice snapped him back to reality. "You okay?"

Connor blinked twice rapidly to signify that he was awake. They were in Angel's car, waiting for Mal and Aidan to join them, right after they had their little yelling contest. They did a little pit stop somewhere near Compton after driving around a bit.

"Quit yelling. I can hear you."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"None of your business."

"Huh? That long? You better get some shut eye soon. You look like hell. Wait. No, actually you look scary. You got red in your eyes Satan – it doesn't look good on you."

Connor sighed and moved around the room to grab various research materials. "I once went a month without sleep in Qourtoth. That was when Holtz and I were escaping from the Kluthu. Believe me, a few days without sleep is nothing to me." Connor didn't want to tell anyone that the reason that he cannot sleep is because of the increasing amount of nightmares going in and out of his fragile mind every time he closes his eyes.

"Thinking about your father - Laurence?"

Connor shook his head. He wanted to think about Laure… his father right now, but he can't. He was blocking it off, he knew this, and he resented Lawin for brining it up. Nonetheless, he was glad he was told about it, if only to shake him awake from the spiral he was plunging himself into.

"So what are you going to tell your mother and sister?" Lawin asked. "You know, about how your old man offed himself to stop two demon gods from entering this world."

"I don't know what to tell them." Connor rasped.

"Well, you better figure something out."

"Just stay the hell out of this, Lawin! It's none of your damned business. My family problems are my problems – not yours. We are fighting demon armies. Let's stick to that!"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to pry."

Connor frowned a bit. "Sorry for being an ass. I guess I do need sleep."

"Don't think of it. If we make it alive through this. I'm gonna take a long hot bath and sleep for a week."

"I hear that," Connor responded.

Malachi interrupted them, Aidan right at his side. "Lawin, Connor. We have to go."

"Where are we?" Lawin asked.

"At this point, it's just another stopover."

"Load off my mind," Connor rasped as he dragged himself to his feet.

Malachi lead the boys to a safehouse – a pathetic little dingy near sunset boulevard. The mentalist, true to his word, provided them with enough supplies and equipment to fight a demonic army, which will most likely be what they will be doing.

"Lawin, Aidan needs your help with the plans." Malachi said then turned to Connor. "Reilly, stay here. We need to have a heart to heart." Lawin looked briefly at Connor, who merely shrugged, and went with Aidan.

"What now?" Connor asked.

"We need to talk about Angel."

"I figured out as much. So it's time to come get him?"

"Yes, it's time to come get your father. It's gonna be tricky though."

"Considering our current problems, it won't be easy," Connor said.

"It doesn't change the fact that we still have to find him though. He has a part to play," Malachi said somberly, "as do we all."

"You know, you never told me what role Angel will play in all of this."

"I showed you the murals, didn't I?"

"You showed me an incomplete prophecy that I can barely understand."

"Join the club. I don't understand it either and neither do the powers," Malachi said, "All we know for certain is that it will happen and who the players are. After the event takes place, it's anyone's guess."

"You'll need to give me more than that. I already lost my da… Laurence Reilly. I am not going to risk either my life or Angel's life over a wild guess and a bunch of obscure half-prophecies."

Malachi began rubbing his temple. "I'll tell you what I think. Is that good enough?"

Connor nodded.

"Think of it like a test. You either pass or you fail. Either way, life continues, but the outcome of the test will influence how things will turn out."

"That makes some sense, but what happens if I fail," Connor asked.

Malachi's face darkened. "Then the universe will rearrange itself around your failure."

"And what happens if I… pass?"

"Same thing," Malachi answered laconically.

"I don't get it. I thought my very existence was supposed to change the universe."

"That's true, but don't think you can dictate your will on it either. Everything works in its own pace and in its own time. That's free will."

"That doesn't make any sense," Connor responded.

"It never does."

Connor thought about this. "You still haven't answered my question. What does Angel have to do with this?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you're a lot of help!" Connor snapped.

"Hey! I'm not the one making this up," Malachi answered back, "All I know is that you and Angel's destiny's are intertwined. How they're intertwined, that's something you will have to figure out for yourself."

Connor rubbed his temples to clear away the fatigue. With all the demonic wars and plagues and prophecies, he barely had any rest. He nodded his head and looked back at the building. Back to the present.

"First things first though…" He looked at Malachi.

Malachi agreed. "We gotta stop this fucking disease-ridden fog from taking the entire city."

"Agreed."

With their discussion finished, Connor and Malachi sought out Aidan and Lawin. The watcher and the sorcerer were gearing themselves up with knives, firearms and in Aidan's case, enough explosives to blow up a building.

"Mal," Aidan greeted him with a grimace on his face.

"Aidan," Malachi returned the greeting, "What's on your mind?"

The renegade watcher shrugged. "Before I came here, I was saved by a slayer who claimed she got an anonymous phone call. Were you responsible?"

Malachi's didn't even flinch at what amounted to an half-accusation. "Yes, I had something to do with it. Can't let one of the team die now, can I?"

"Spare me the rhetoric, I just needed to know that you were the one behind it." Aidan said and went back to putting explosives and equipment into his bag.

"What did you tell Ashley?" Malachi asked.

Aidan became a bit grim. "Told her to go back to the council, that she'll do much good with them than with me."

"What did you tell _the slayer_?" Malachi insisted, and this time his tone asked if Aidan compromised the secrecy of their upcoming operations. Lawin and Connor looked at the exchange with intense attention.

"Does it really matter at this point?" Aidan asked sheepishly, despite his haggard look.

Malachi's face became even grimmer. "No, it doesn't, but if she gets in the way, it'll be on your head." Aidan ignored him.

"Sod off."

Malachi then gestured for Connor to bring everyone up on where they stood. Connor moved his hand across his hair, as if uncertain of what exactly to say.

"Mal, told me about what you taking on the First Evil," Connor said.

"Yeah, say hello to suicide mission." Aidan answered.

"If it's any consolation," Lawin piped up, "we're all doing suicide missions."

"You sure you can do this Aidan?" Connor asked. Although Aidan has his regenerative powers, among them all, Aidan was the least powerful.

"Anyone else you know who's available for the job? No? That's what I though."

"Marastoth told me something right after he fired my brain," Connor said, "He said that the First is coordinating its plans in one of the watcher's buildings." They all looked at him. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"As a matter of fact, joker… I do." Aidan answered.

"Dime to a dollar, that's where we'll find the source of this disease."

"Yeah uh, guys. I got a question. Why should we trust anything a hell god says?" Aidan asked.

"You got a better lead, Travers?"

"Good point."

"Okay then," Connor said with renewed strength, "let's get to work."

* * *

Marastoth stood before the gates of the deeper well. Somewhere nearby, what remained of his legions of Kluthu'kar hid in defensive positions to protect their master. Hundreds, even thousands, of them, all made manifest by within man's darkness, empowered by Marastoth's own primordial powers. And now, here they were, at the hub of destiny. He was the only one left of the three Kluthu Gods and he knows that he too will soon die. Not only was he about to go against the First evil, he had planned these events from the very beginning, and he knew for sure that his chances of surviving were nil.

A minor sacrifice considering the larger picture.

Marastoth was overcome by a sense of pity as he thought about his siblings. After he had deceived them, in retaliation, they had made a deal with the First evil to help them enter this world – enter it by possessing Laurence Reilly's body. Marastoth could not allow that and so he helped Connor – or rather manipulated him – into destroying those two. It was a distasteful act – killing your own siblings – but destiny was more important than family and he simply could not allow a sensitive situation to become more complicated.

Family.

The thought of his own siblings caused Marastoth to recall Connor's father, Laurence. The poor man had to die. So many sacrifices – necessary sacrifices – but only for everybody else, he chided himself. His only regret that he wouldn't have the chance to see the last episode of this season's Desperate Housewives. Oh well, tough shit.

Marastoth looked up and regarded the dark sky with annoyance. He despised drama but he knew that it was more than that. Now that the other players were done with – Vorathon, the slayers, the council, the powers that be, and even the old ones buried deep within the deeper well – now that they were no longer a problem, his only concern was the true enemy - the First Evil. Only the First Evil can stand against the Destroyer's destiny and vice versa. In all likelihood, he knew that he could not take on that primordial evil.

But Connor can, Marastoth thought with mirth. Oh yes, the First Evil has every reason to fear Connor.

Marastoth's thoughts took a detour as he sensed some disturbance affect the surrounding area and he knew who and what it was. Speak of the devil.

The First Evil appeared before the Kluthu demon god, dressed as a elderly old man. He smiled at Marastoth and spoke nothing, so Marastoth spoke first.

"I was just thinking about you…" Marastoth said calmly then added awkwardly, "No homo."

"Homo," The First snorted.

"Why are you here?" Marastoth spoke impatiently. "Just can't go a few minutes without taunting someone?"

"Don't be dramatic. I came here to talk. Nothing more."

"What's there to talk about? You killed my brother and sister," Marastoth spoke calmly but menacingly.

"I did not."

"Fine. You orchestrated the events that lead to their destruction. Whatever." Marastoth in the same tone. "You killed them."

"You were trying to kill each other."

"It was a family matter. It had nothing to do with you."

"Oh, yes it did. I used them to drive Connor to the brink of suicide."

"Yes, well attempts at suicide seem to run in Connor's family, which always seems to fail when you get involved by the way. All that work for nothing."

The First remained quiet. "It doesn't matter. I am in position and you are too late."

"What am I too late for this time?" Marastoth answered laconically. "Oooh! Let me guess. I'm too late to stop you from killing Connor and the population of this miserable pathetic world. Monomaniacal much?"

"Those are on the top of my list, but I assure you that they are not the only ones."

"Yeah, I bet." The Kluthu said flatly. "Tell me when you actually plan something that can actually kill people."

"This is where the final battle ends, prodigal." The first evil taunted Marastoth, "you do know that you or your armies cannot win."

"I'm not trying to win anything. My purpose – my final purpose – is to make sure that Connor does what he is meant to do." Marastoth jabbed his finger at the gate of the deeper well.

"So very confident," the first chuckled. "You know full well that the prophecy, if you can even call it that, is extremely vague. What Connor will or will not do, or even if he is the one, cannot be known. You're playing with an unqualified truth, prodigal and it will be your doom."

"It will be your doooom! Ohhh I'm so scared." Marastoth repeated with a lot sarcasm. "Faggot."

The first looked visibly offended. "We'll see just how strong your little messiah is when I'm through with him."

"Spare me the empty threats. You won't kill him. We both know what a disaster his death will mean for both of us."

"Death is not the only outcome."

Marastoth raised an eye in amusement. "Time really is a precious commodity, even among us. But it will not change anything."

The First evil smiled in a way that made Marastoth uneasy. "you may want to warn the slayers. They're right up there on my hit list, along with you and your little _messiah_."

"The slayers are of no concern to me…"

"But they are a concern for Connor," The First Evil allowed the threat to linger.

"What are you up to?"

The First Evil disappeared, a lingering chuckle the only remnant of its presence. This was a trap, but for who?

* * *

5:00 AM – The next morning.

Giles woke up on the comfort of his desk, surrounded by books and musty tomes. In a flash of panic, he forgot what was happening or what he was going to do. It seemed like there was a hole in his mind, and his instincts were screaming for him to piece together the puzzle.

He quickly went through his things trying to ascertain the problem, but the empty hole remained. He panicked some more, but slowly the memories came back. The situation had become worse and worse, and he was right here researching until he passed out. At least, that's how he remembered it.

"Giles?" Giles heard Dawn enter the room "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Ah yes. Just a bit dizzy." He looked around his desk. "

"Has Buffy arrived yet?"

"She's on patrol but she's on her way back. Giles, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm quite fine. For a moment…" he snickered. "Never mind." This turned into a much greater laugh.

"Giles?"

"Oh, sorry. I was mildly… out of my senses for a moment there."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm quite okay now. What news do we have?"

"Well, we know where a big demon war is about to erupt," Dawn said excitedly.

It was all beginning to come back to Giles now. The memories felt plastic somehow but Giles couldn't allow doubt to cloud his mind at a time like this. Whether this was stress or something else, the danger of several unknown demonic armies demanded that he keep a focused mind. "Ah yes, of course. Has Buffy been informed yet?"

"Not yet, but she's on her way here. Do you want me tell her?"

"What? No. I'll do it personally."

"Okay, Giles. I gotta go." Dawn started to leave.

"Where are you going?" Giles asked.

Dawn looked at him as if he asked for the answer to 2 plus 2. "The slayers are gearing up for battle and patrols and intel are a mess. They can use every hand they can get, including mine."

"Oh right. Silly me. I guess I really am exhausted. It's just… Do go on."

"See ya later." Dawn slipped out of Giles office quietly, and headed straight to the building's main lobby, where the majority of the slayers were gathered. It was an airy looking place, filled with more than a couple of dozen of slayers from the western seaboard. A few more were on their way to the main battle.

Despite the obvious power implied by several teams of slayers, the atmosphere was a bit gloomy. Neither they nor their watchers had any accurate knowledge of who was behind the fog which was now covering LA, nor of the leaders of the demonic armies massing in various parts of LA. All they had were bits and pieces of inaccurate information, and the certainty that the demons were fighting over something. What that is, has yet to be determined…

Dawn didn't like the idea of keeping any secrets. She knew the truth of what this demon war was all about – Connor, but she knew with certainty – that if she said anything, she would only be endangering the people she loved. And so she remained quiet.

Walking past the slayers and their watchers, she tried to keep her composure. Keeping her mind focused on the plan she concocted with Connor. If all went well, none of the slayers or her family will get hurt. She looked at the various tables, weapons and gear that the slayers were packing, wondering what the coming war would bring. Despite the lobby's size, it was a mess with people running left and right, trying to make sense and passing out intel that had recently come from the field. After searching a bit, she found who she was looking for.

"You okay?" Dawn asked her.

"Going incognito among superheroes isn't exactly what I had in mind but it is wicked cool," Tracy whispered. With Dawn's help, she had successfully infiltrated the watchers council's base.

"Glad to know that you're crazy enough to actually like it. Come on. We have to talk somewhere safe." Dawn lead Tracy to a supply closet while no one was looking.

"Are you sure you're willing to go along with Connor's plan?" Tracy asked. She was referring to Connor's message to Dawn. It outlined his plan to save them all.

Dawn remained quiet and nodded her head solemnly. The message Tracy gave to Dawn implied great danger for Buffy, and all the other people Dawn loved. Though she could scarcely believe it, she trusted Connor's warnings.

"God, I hope Reilly knows what he's doing."

"We both do," Dawn answered solemnly.

"What's going to happen now?" Tracy asked.

"I don't know." Dawn wrapped her hands around herself, trying to keep away a coldness that was not there. "I wish I could tell Buffy and Giles…"

"Dawn, Connor said…"

"I know what Connor's message was," Dawn snapped. "The hidden dangers of what would happen if higher powers knew that Buffy and Giles knew about the terrible things that would happen next. Believe me, I know and I sure as hell know what I have to do. I don't have to like it though."

"Neither do I," Tracy's mind took a different turn then, and she recalled a question that she had been meaning to ask Dawn since they found Connor last night. "What… What did Connor look like? You know, when you found him."

"What?"

"You were the one who found Connor first, remember? When we trying to find him."

"Yeah, but I still don't understand what you're asking?"

"What happened to him? There was something wrong when we found him. You and I both knew that."

Dawn knew what Tracy was talking about, but her mind also leapt to the kiss she had with Connor. "What do you want me to say? That he's some kind of super demon super hero? I really don't know." The lie came easily.

Tracy heard her own voice and she quickly relented. "Sorry. Sorry. I guess this is really taking its toll on me." She sat down on of the boxes and tried to clear her head.

"It's going to be okay, Trace," Dawn said.

"No, Dawn. It's not going to be okay. We both read Connor's message. We both know that all this is not going to turn out fine."

Dawn lowered her head in defeat and sat beside Tracy. "You're right. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more, but the truth is that I'm as lost as you are."

"No, I should be the one to apologize."

"Don't. You carry yourself pretty well, despite never seen or heard of the supernatural before. I couldn't say the same if I were in your shoes."

Tracy chuckled. "Believe me. I'm at my wit's end right now."

"For Connor?"

"For all of us. Seeing Mr. Reilly dead. Malachi mind wiping that friend of your, Giles. And of course, you know, demon war." Tracy jabbed a finger at the door.

"There's not much time left."

"You think his plan will work?"

"I don't know," Dawn answered, "throughout the entire time I knew him, I never thought him to be the cunning type."

"Before, this all began, I never thought he could be involved in any of this. Guess he proved us wrong."

"Guess he did," Dawn answered quietly.

"I love him, Dawn" Tracey said barely a whisper then the terror of Connor killing himself overwhelmed and before she could stop herself, Tracey was crying. "That son of a bitch! Goddammit, I loved him. I still love him."

"Come on Trace. This is no time to play the dainty princess. We have a lot to worry about…" At mid-sentence, screams and yelling resounded outside from the gathered slayers. Dawn and Tracy immediately ran out the room to see what was happening and to their surprise, the slayers all over the compound were being infected with some kind of eldritch energies, driving them in pain. And although it was under control, it was foretaste of things to come.

Dawn panicked at first, and she resisted the instinct to run to Giles, but she quickly looked at Tracy with a stony gaze. "Let's hope your boy friend knows what he's doing."

It was raining outside, lightning heralding the darkness and the passing lights of so many Los Angeles vehicles. The city had lost Angel a long time ago, and with him the evils that were brought upon them by the Wolf/Ram and Hart, but now a new evil emerged, new dangers and those who were tasked to fight them were barely capable of answering such a call.

* * *

In the warehouse where they were gathered, Malachi brought the news to the boys. He wore a very somber face, and though he still had his cocky self-assurance, the stress was clearly on him.

As he approached the boys, he tried to dodge the bodies of demons that littered the floor of the safe house. Before they had secured the building, they were ambushed by several demons – all of which attempted to kill them. This meant only one thing. Everybody was getting desperate.

In the warehouse where they were gathered, Malachi brought the news to the boys. Connor, Lawin and Aidan all turned to look at him, shadows dancing upon their face. Grim and gritty, made older by the stress and weariness of battle that sapped all the powers and beauty of youth.

Everybody was gearing up for battle. Connor removed his shirt and allowed the symbiote parasite to cover his body with living eldritch armor, turning Connor's form from human into something more demonic. He summoned the Litany of the Abyss, and the demon obediently slid into his hand, taking the form of a sword.

Lawin readied his spells and wrapped several runed pieces around his arms, hiding them beneath the jacket he wore. He took up a series of knives and hid them beneath his clothing. And finally, he took his alcohol flask emptied it in one gulp and then threw it away.

As for Aidan, he hid an AK 47 into his bag, with the others looking at him cautiously.

"Wot!" the Kiwi watcher snapped. "I doan do spells or magick, and small time necromancer-slash-watcher doesn't exactly compare with demon messiah or super hero magick man." Lawin and Connor kept their cool and went back to quiet.

Aside from Travers' little outburst, everybody was quiet. The situation was bleak and they were tired. And besides, if by some unlikely reason they make it out of this alive, they will have plenty of time to crack jokes.

Malachi emerged from the shadows dressed in what appeared to be a military combat gear – something that you can find among swat teams. He walked over to Connor and tapped him on the shoulders. Aidan and Lawin watched him but remained quiet nonetheless. They all knew better than to trust each other.

"We need to talk," Malachi said to his Connor's ear.

"Kinda busy," Connor rasped.

"It's important," the tone of voice conveyed importance.

Connor followed Malachi to another part of the warehouse, where they couldn't be overheard. "Aren't you going to gear up?" Connor asked, trying to break the ice.

"I'm a professional, Connor. I do my 'gearing up' before I get to the fight."

"So what's so important that we need to keep it from those two."

"I want you to know that we're going into something very messy, and we may get ourselves into a situation where we may have to risk or even sacrifice people's lives."

"Like the innocent people Marastoth killed because you were secretly working with him?" Connor asked sarcastically, but there was no humor in his voice.

"You wanna make an omelete, you gotta break some eggs. Lawin understands this, I think. Aidan? He doesn't really count that much."

"Kill hundreds, to save thousands?" Connor fenced. "I've been there before."

"Why not Millions to save Billions?"

"That's not how it works, Mal. I had to learn that lesson the hard way."

"Oh really? What do you know, Connor? Just because you allowed your lovey dovey, Cordy to whack that little girl in the warehouse, doesn't mean you're a regular bad ass now!" Lawin and Aidan hear Connor's little outburst and decided it best to check what was wrong.

"Jasmine killed thousands…"

"To save millions…"

"By taking away their free will?"

"There is no such thing!" Malachi seemed to have exhausted his reserves. He spoke in a low tone: "There is no such thing. We are all shackled to our destiny… our fate! Slayers, Humans, Demons, Sorcerers and even gods themselves must submit themselves to the tyranny of fate."

"Choice is very real," Connor hissed with his own venom. "You see that it's real when you're alone in the darkness… trying to piece together the fragile illusions that were the very basis of your life." The image of the Reilly's came unbidden into Connor's mind. He shook away that weakening luxury – now was not the time for indulgence.

"Is that right?" Malachi sneered. "Tell me Connor, would your father have defeated the Circle if he had played hero?" He turned to Lawin and Aidan. "That's the problem with you Fucktards! You expect heroes! You expect Champions! Well, you know what? Those things are illusions! In this line of work, you will ultimately get blood on your hands. Dark and ugly and filthy! And you have to sacrifice your lily white puritan ideals to get the job done!"

"What the hell are you two arguing about? Mal…" Lawin tried to interrupt.

"Shut it! I play hero, people die! I run around saving bimbos in distress, and the big evils will just piss on me from up high. You little bastards don't want to think about it? Well, guess what? That's how things work. This isn't a movie or a TV show. I was assigned this job to clean up the mess that happens to this goddam world on a regular basis – but it requires sacrifice. Sacrifices to keep the peace and to keep people alive! Cute little proverbs, slogan or ideals don't save worlds." Malachi looked at one face to another. "It's blood, guts and murder. Dead men and women don't care about the rules! Victims don't care about the rules! Neither do the bastards who want us dead! Yes, I'm not a complete good guy. Yes, I only care about results but someone has to! Someone has to clean up the crap left behind by the high and mighty!" Malachi hardened his face and looked into Connor's cold blue eyes. "You should know this Connor. Angel did this kind of work.

"I am not my father." Connor spoke each syllable like a curse.

"Well Connor, we'll just have to ask him once we find him."

"You're right. We'll just have to ask him once we find him." Connor answered.


	6. Chapter 5

Twenty Sixth Entry

Kluthu'kar assassins killed the Shamans, as well as a number of Nog Hototh warriors who opposed Steven. I never even knew those who were killed. Besides which I was nowhere near them when they died, I've got witnesses who could prove it.

Anyway, the young apprentice I _befriended _earlier told me of a dangerous spell his predecessors practiced. And though I despise the thought of magicks, I was inclined to accept the possibility of using them for my son's benefit.

Though extremely barbaric, the Nog Hototh were in possession of several primitive forms of incantations. One of these was the ability to undo memories and creating runic barriers. My newfound ally told me of a very simple solution to Steven's problem: Since the Kluthu'kar unleashed Steven's _powers_, we would simply put it back in. A simple answer to a vexing riddle, Occam's razor strikes again.

As good as this news may sound, there was, unfortunately, a downside. To remove Steven's affliction, we would have to bury most of his powers - his warlock powers - and in order to do that, we would have to remove most of his memories, the ones especially pertaining to being a warlock.

When I told Steven of what I had found he was completely agreeable to my plans. We were ready for the cure but for one slight complication: A tear in reality appeared on the Nog Hototh shrines. I'd like to say at this point, that I know where the tear leads… and who opened it. We would have entered it without hesitation but it seems the rip in reality would have likely torn us apart. It was highly unstable.

This unusual turn of events presented us with a quandary. Steven was the only one who could solve the stability issue, so we could not yet _cure _him yet. And yet we must isolate Steven's powers before it becomes too unstable. We have a most troubling predicament on our hands. To solve all our problems, in short: My son must first stabilize the tear in reality then I must remove his memories, after which we must lead the Nog Hototh against the Kluthu'kar and then jump into a portal that we were guessing was leading to Earth. The task we have was not easy!

* * *

Chapter 5: Springing the Trap

* * *

The source of the demonic fog which was now slowly devouring LA was located in an isolated cul-de-sac somewhere in an area recently devastated by a small riot. The cops had their hands full. The defenders of that area where mostly composed of a few Turok Khan, proving once more that it was the First who was responsible for it. The entrance was guarded by two of them.

After several hours of fighting, the creatures were easily dispatched with relative ease. It wasn't exactly a walk in the park though. Lawin detected some unknown of spell emanating from the area within, telling them that there may be surprises in stored for them.

"There should be more inside," Malachi said.

"Guys, I'm detecting some type of dampening field inside our target," Lawin said.

"How bad is it?" Malachi asked.

"Dunno. Could be very bad. This set up has 'trap' written all over it."

"We don't have time for surprises," Connor said, " Travers and I will go around. Since you're the one with prescience, you and De La Vega go in. We'll cover you. If anything happens, well move in."

"My prescience isn't up to full force," Malachi answered gravely, "but I do see your point." He turned to Lawin. "You sure you can't detect what the spell really is?"

Lawin shook his head, and told Connor and Aidan to get moving. There was no time for a debate.

"Guys, this entire set up is yelling trap." Lawin voiced what every one of them was thinking.

"You have an alternative?" Mal asked.

"No, just voicing out what we're already thinking."

"Duly noted," and they departed for their positions.

When they were in position, Lawin and Malachi began their run. They attacked directly, drawing out the various Turok Han long enough for Connor and Travers to jump into a flanking attack. When the battle commenced though, strategy jumped right out the window. The four of them had to fight their way through what was apparently a dozen or more Turok Han.

It was largely a pitched battle, pushing back and forth between various possibilities of victory and defeat. But the four of them managed to win over the Turok Han, with a little sacrifice. Connor and Malachi only got a few bruises, whereas Lawin and Aidan had several cuts.

"Hope that was the hard part," Lawin said trying to stem the blood that was running out from a wound on his arm.

"Let's hope you're right," Connor said blandly, "what's the situation with that dampening field?"

Lawin shrugged. "It seems to be centered around our target." He pointed at the demonic artifact which even now was brimming with eldritch powers. "I'll say it again. This smells like a trap."

"So…" Aidan hesitated, "who wants to trip it?" They all looked at each other but it was Connor who moved forward, volunteering himself. No one tried to stop him.

"Reilly!" Malachi hissed. Connor looked at him in a way as if to ask if he had a better idea.

"We don't have much time," Connor said.

Malachi nodded his head, and looked at Aidan and Lawin, "You two. Get ready. If something goes wrong…"

"We're ready!" Lawin snapped.

Connor moved forward to touch the artifact. It looked like a postmodern art sculptor made by drug addled hippy, and smelled like fried bacon. Connor touched it again. Nothing happened. It's hard to imagine that this unassuming trinket was the current cause of the chaos around LA.

He looked at Malachi, Lawin and Aidan. They shrugged back. Connor hesitated for what seemed like a heartbeat before he bringing down his blade to smash the demonic artifact into several pieces.

"Well?" Lawin asked.

"Well what?" Connor asked.

"Shouldn't there be a rolling boulder heading our way now?"

"Oh you're just asking, ain't ya mate?" Aidan quipped.

Malachi tried to make sense what was going on but there was nothing wrong. This doesn't make any sense. Things aren't supposed to be easy. "Connor, get back here. We're not staying around to find out what's wrong here. Let's go."

Connor walked away from the altar that had held the artifact and ran back to the rest of the team, except when he got near to them he was pushed back.

"Opph!" Connor began cussing, angry at this surprise.

"What's wrong?" Malachi asked.

Lawin came forward and he encountered what was the matter. It was some kind of barrier, and it was blocking Connor from exiting. It enclosed him within a small circle, several yards wide, no bigger than a small room, encircling the artifact. "There's some kind of barrier here. I can break it but it'll take some time."

Malachi's face became grim and he looked at Connor, who was now getting up and tensing for battle. "Stay put Reilly. Lawin, do it." Lawin obeyed and began to chant something to break the barrier. Aidan readied his weapon.

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Connor answered back dryly.

"Don't worry mate. We'll get you out in no time," Aidan reassured him.

"Bloddy trap," Connor cursed under his breath. He knew that whatever's going to happen next, it was going to be ugly. And just he predicted, a portal opened behind him. From it emerged, the Angelus Doppelganger. Its face had somehow mutated into a more demonic visage. Whatever was happening to it, it was decaying.

"I was hoping to kill all four of you," the Doppelganger taunted Connor, "but one vermin in the cage is better than four free."

"Hey." Connor greeted. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Did you miss me?" The Angelus Doppelganger asked as he began to walk around Connor, sizing him up, preparing for battle.

"Not nearly enough. Is Marastoth behind this?"

"Marastoth? No. You see, I have a new employer now, and he is more than willing to treat me as a toy or a blunt weapon."

"Glad you resolved your little existential crisis." Connor kept talking hoping it would buy the others enough time to reverse the spell.

"Thank you. You see, I've had a little epiphany lately. Your own twisted little soul was responsible for my creation. And since you are the source of all this trouble then by extension, I am also a major power in our little conflict."

"And who told you that? The First Evil?"

"I can't deny it, but it's a something that I know to be true. If you don't trust me, why don't you ask your buddy, Malachi?"

Connor stole a glance at Malachi. It was a big mistake, because it gave the Doppelganger the opening to attack. Connor was struck on the chest and he fell down hard, but managed enough speed to get out of in time before Angelus could deliver another attack.

Within a heartbeat though, Angelus was on him again smashing him against the barrier and, by grabbing his neck, flung him into the opposite side.

Connor did his best to block the Doppelganger's blows, but to little or no avail. It was much too fast and much too powerful. One blow found itself into Connor's face; sending him sprawling to the floor. Something was broken inside. He just hoped that it would heal fast.

Angelus grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him up to look him in the face. "I am more than Angelus. I am the darkness inside your soul – the demon that you've always hated – always feared. Look at me Connor, I'm part of the monster that you've always known yourself to be." He then threw Connor to the floor.

Connor could barely focus his view, but that old feeling – that sensation he felt when he lost Laurence earlier – it had returned. He could feel himself suddenly getting renewed strength. He did not know where it came from – only that it was there, demanding that he preserve himself.

The power that welled up within Connor went beyond ego – beyond memories or abstractions – it was raw, and it demanded its coming moment. It will not be hampered – not by demon, human or gods.

Connor's body moved with feral speed and, barring Angelus' attempt to block the attack, he managed to tear off one of the doppelganger's arm within a single move. Connor stared aghast at the damage he wrought with so little effort before he collapsed into a heap from a great and sudden exhaustion.

* * *

Everyone outside of the magical barrier saw Connor fall down. There was no mistaking that he was in trouble.

"Lawin!" Malachi yelled at him. "I don't mean to be pushy but can you hurry it up?"

"Do not fucking push me!"

"Mate, Reilly's getting his arse handed to him in there!"

"I know. I know. Shut up Travers! I can't think with you guys telling in my ear. Almost got it… There!" The barrier was down at the exact moment Connor tore off Angelus' arm and then collapsed. They were all dumbfounded.

"Whoah! Bloody nasty!" Aidan exclaimed.

"Mal, what just happened to Connor?" Lawin demanded an answer with his tone, but Malachi ignored him. Connor had just passed out and now the Doppelganger – his arm's stump - was clearly looking for vengeance.

Malachi blinked once, and attacked. No time for niceties. They had to save Connor. Measuring his distance to Connor and Angelus, Malachi yelled for Lawin to cast a spell at the Doppelganger to cover him in his advance.

Lawin did as he was ordered and managed to cast a small gaseous cloud over Angelus, buying Malachi precious moments to direct a psychic blast at the Doppelganger and grab Connor away from him.

"Thanks," Connor rasped while coughing, "I don't know what was happening to me."

"We can talk about your little burst of power later," Malachi snapped, "but right now, we have a fight to worry about." Malachi, Aidan, Connor and Lawin began encircling the Angelus Doppelganger.

The Doppelganger looked at all four of them with some glee. "Well, now. Four against one is hardly fair, don't you think?"

"We don't fight fair," Connor replied and then in a tone laced with contempt… "_dad_."

As one, all four of them attack, giving no chance for their target to retaliate or escape. Aidan emptied an entire clip from his silenced rifle, while Lawin cast another spell that would have singed the limbs off of any human being. Connor, who had the supernatural strength, was the one who went for the melee, sword flashing downward on the Doppelganger's head. Malachi feinted left and threw his entire weight on a kick to their enemy's left leg designed to trip it into the ground.

Despite the coordinate attack, they were more or less ineffective. The bullets that managed strike Angelus had no effect. Lawin's spell managed to burn off part of its coat but only did superficial damage. Connor and Malachi were the able to drive him into a defensive position, but the Doppelganger rallied and struck back in rapid succession and blinding speed.

Aidan tried to defend himself by using whatever limited necromantic powers he has to control the Angelus, but it was largely ineffective against the Doppelganger which was not a real vampire like the original. The watcher got a solid blow in the gut driving across the floor and into a wall.

Lawin had used up a lot of his powers and now, his nose was slowly dripping with blood from the pressure. His vision was also a little hazy. He tried to conjure a second spell, despite his body screaming to the contrary, but Angelus knocked him square on the chin, driving him to the ground gasping for air.

This left Connor and Malachi, who were also barely managing to keep up with the Doppelganger, who moved too fast for even the two of them to anticipate. Malachi, who was of mere mortal form, and now, bereft of his prescience, was the first to be beaten of the two.

Angelus disengaged Connor from the battle by kicking him sideways, in a way that he lost his balance. This bought Angelus the time he needed to pounce on Malachi and knock him out cold.

Beaten, Malachi was thrown to the ground along with Lawin and Aidan. This left Connor and the Doppelganger to finish the battle.

"Your father was a loser and your mother was a hooker." Angelus punched Connor.

"You're nothing," He kept punching.

"Pansy." Punch.

"Pussy." Punch.

"Republican." Punch. And Connor staggered down to his knees. "Why'd I say that?"

Angelus lifted Connor off his feet ad looked at him amusedly. "Come on Connor, Don't you want a father – son talk?"

"Okay, how's this?" A slender chain slid down Connor's sleeve and he swung it the palm of his hand like a brass knuckle. He then slammed it straight into Angelus' face. "What's with your retarded hair?"

"Nice trick!" Angelus said wiping the blood from his lips where Connor hit him.

"You like it? I was expecting you to show up, so I had Lawin over there give this thing some enchantment just in case you showed up."

"Oh really? I didn't take you for someone who fights dirty.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Give me your best shot junior."

Connor attacked swinging his chain knuckles at Angelus' jaw. At first, the blows reduced sections of Angelus' face into smoking meat however, Connor's momentum was slowing down and Angelus managed to dodge a couple of blows with his forearm. Connor changed tactics and launched a kick deep into Angelus' gut. It connected but the vampire simply grunted and retaliated by grabbing Connor into an arm lock. The weapon fell and Angelus threw Connor hard against a far away wall.

At first, it seemed as if Angelus had the upper hand but Connor quickly countered by summoning a cloud of poisoned gas between him and his enemy. Connor used the resulting chaos to assess himself. He was tired. The stress and the lack of sleep were taking its toll on him. His ribs felt like they've had an argument with a sledge hammer. He was bruised all over his body. He tasted of blood – his blood. Connor shook his head to clear away the pain and to get back into the fight.

"You think your little smoke tricks can stop me?" Angelus snarled as the vampire lumbered his way through the fog.

"No, but this one can hurt you!" Before Angelus realized what was happening, Connor's foot was slamming against his groin. The blow was enough to make Angelus fly away in retreat, cursing as he flew away.

"Don't worry Hair Spray. It's not like you'll be using your nads any time soon." Before Connor could utter another sound though, Angelus summoned a powerful energy lance and threw it at Connor. "Oh shit!"

Connor managed to dodge the lance and he countered with a spike of energy of his own. He was successful and Angelus was thrown away from where he stood. He crumbled to the ground angry and panting. "You little son of a bitch!" Angelus snarled malevolently.

"Sorry, but I'm not really in the mood to talk about my mom right now." Connor leaped on top of Angelus proceeded to rain blows down on his face. "After all the real Angel banged her!"

Despite his banter however, Connor was losing. Whatever it was the First Evil did to improve the Angelus Doppelganger, it was significant. Even with Connor's own powers, he could not harm the creature. A few well placed punches and Connor found himself on the floor once more.

"That was a nice trick you pulled earlier," Angelus said, standing over him, "bet you can't do it again."

Connor pushed himself up and threw a wide punch. It missed and for his failure, he received a knee to his gut, putting him down once more. Dizzy and nearly out of energy, Connor expected the finishing blow. He could feel it.

"The Destroyer," Angelus spoke the title with contempt as he raised his left hand now crackling with eldritch energy, for the killing blow, "you're just a little freak."

Connor closed his eyes and waited for the strike to come, even as he pushed every last ounce of his strength to get up. Strangely enough, he knew that despite the certainty of death, he would not die today. He felt his purpose – a sense of work that remained undone. He knew that Angelus – by some intervention of an unknown force – may wound him but would not be able to kill him.

And just as his innermost senses told, it happened. An explosion of eldritch and demonic power occurred at the edges of his eyes. He sensed that the Doppelganger had retreated from whatever it was that intervened.

"You!" Angelus snarled at the one who interfered.

Connor heard the battle explode and some wrathful yelling. His addled senses kept him woozy but he felt Lawin, Malachi and Aidan nearby, trying their best to help him up.

Connor shook his head to clear away the pain, but what he saw made him wish that his senses were still addled. Marastoth stood where the Doppelganger was.

"Don't worry. He retreated," The Kluthu God spoke.

There would no talk from Connor. He threw caution to the wind and attacked Marastoth, but the demon god put him down easily. Putting him on chokehold.

"A worthy effort, kiddo. But you're not yet ready. When you are, don't worry… You can maim me to your heart's content." Marastoth threw Connor backwards. "This isn't the place or time for me to die"

Connor got up and sat on his haunches. He didn't really have any intention of killing Marastoth and Connor was well aware that Marastoth doesn't wish to kill him either. The others didn't attack either. They knew of its futility, and besides, the Kluthu _did _save them.

"So you actually believe that I'm destined to kill you?" Connor said.

"You will do more than simply kill me. It will be as if you'll banish me to nonexistence."

"Then why won't you kill me now? Save yourself?"

Marastoth laughed a bit and sat down besides Connor and wrapped his hand around Connor's shoulders. Connor didn't indicate approval or disapproval. He just sat there without moving – his face annoyed. "Oh kiddo. Are you always going to solve your problems with killing?"

Connor shrugged. "It worked in the past."

"Quite," Marastoth said he flew upwards like a wraith over a large hole in the warehouse's roof. The Angelus doppelganger did not return, implying well enough that Marastoth kicked its ass. The Kluthu god pointed an ominous finger at Connor and without any further banter which characterized his personality spoke: "It's almost time. Don't fall for any more traps from the First. The destiny of the universe is waiting." Without another word, the Kluthu god left just as quickly as he arrived.

"What the hell was he doing here, Malachi?" Lawin snapped at the mentalist, his voice laced with accusations.

"He was here to save me. He was here for me," Connor said. "He knew that we were walking right into a trap. He's also telling us to hurry."

"For wot?" Aidan asked.

"What do you think?" Connor snapped. "Gimme a hand. We have to get out of here."

Once outside, they were able to talk about their next move. Needless to say it quickly degenerated into another one of their characteristic bitch fest.

"This is insane. We're running around in futility," Aidan snapped to no one.

"You want to bend over and take it in the ass, Travers?"

"You want to take my foot up yours, mate?"

"Hey!" Malachi snapped. "Stop the fuck now! We have bigger problems on the horizon and I'm not about to let you bastards screw it up over some ego trip."

Lawin quickly said something before Aidan could make a snappish comeback. "He's right. We can't stand here and argue."

Aidan wanted to snap at him but he got a phone call. No one interrupted him until he finished.

"Who was that?" Connor asked.

"Dawn. We have a problem." Aidan said.

"When it rain it pours," Lawin said smiling.

"There was a situation with the slayers. The First Evil. It's attacking them with a spell."

"What kind of spell?" Connor demanded.

"The type that can kill them. The slayers themselves are being infected and that's not all. Even the scythe is affected."

"That's not possible. We took care of that." Malachi snapped.

"There was a leak… Malcolm."

"You told him about the spell we put on the scythe didn't you?" Lawin asked.

"Malcolm," Aidan spoke the name with trepidation and then bit his lip. "He's behind this. He used me. 'Ow could I be so bloody stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up over it Travers. Look at it this way, The First was controlling him to control you," Connor spoke at last.

"You're not helping, Connor."

Connor shrugged. "Either way, we have to focus on the here and now. We still have other targets to worry about."

"There's no need to remind us," Malachi rasped. "Still, the First went through a lot of trouble to arrange this little trap for it too fail so easily. I think this was more than just a simple trap."

"And I thought I was paranoid."

"Not at all. The First must have known that Marastoth would interfere sooner or later."

"So what's the point of this entire mess, Sherlock?" Aidan asked.

"I believe I can answer that," The First's Evil appeared before them and smiled a very wide smile. It wore Marastoth's shape.

"You!" Malachi said in a calm but malevolent tone.

"Yes, me. I'm here to tell you that despite your best efforts, that Connor is right. This was all just my decoy."

"To distract us from your little war with the Kluthu over who gets to open the deeper well," Connor answered, "You're not as cunning as you think."

"Oh I think I am. I have more than just one target, kid and though you acted faster than I anticipated, I have what I need."

"What are you talking about?" Malachi asked.

"This little distraction served two purposes. The first one was to cause as much chaos as possible." The First gestured at the chaos all over the streets. "And the second was to destroy the slayers!"

Connor, Lawin and Aidan looked at Malachi.

"Did you know about this?" Aidan demanded.

"No," Malachi answered then turned to the First Evil. "You're going to attack the watchers and their slayers!"

"I already have, and the scythe, which is the source of their power, is already being corrupted." The First turned to Aidan. "You may be glad to know that Malcolm is the one concocting the spell for that. It will only be a matter of time before the slayers will fall. Now, you boys will just have to decide. Fight Marastoth in the deeper well… or try to save the slayers. My. My. It's quite the conundrum, and time is certainly of the essence."

"You planned this pretty thoroughly," Malachi said. "Ever since you first appeared to Connor weeks ago, your only goal was to make sure that the coming events will not come to pass."

"What coming events? What are you talking about, Mal?" Aidan asked.

"Connor's ascension," First answered Aidan's question.

"To put it another way," Connor said, "You want me not to show up for Marastoth's little party. All your plans and plots, all because you don't want me to go to the deeper well."

"And you have done that, just as I have orchestrated from the beginning," The First taunted. "You were my pawn – Vorathon, the watcher's council, the ancients, even Marastoth – you were all pieces in my grand design."

"Except for me," Connor butted in.

The First Evil frowned but it said nothing. It then disappeared.

"This is bad," Lawin said.

"Why would the First Evil attack the Slayers?" Aidan asked the question that was on everyone's mind. They all looked at Malachi, knowing full well that he has the answers. When Malachi remained quiet, they pressed closer.

It was Connor who broke the silence and snapped at him. "Answer the fucking question or this little alliance is over!"

Malachi hesitated but his mouth began to move. "You must understand that even I, with all my powers, cannot be sure."

"Then just tell us what you think," Aidan asked insistently.

"The First Evil is trying to prepare for what is to come next."

"What comes next?" Connor asked.

"You!" Malachi said in an accusing manner. "You may not understand how it works, but before the final battle is over, you will be changed and through you, all the control mechanisms of creation."

"You don't actually believe this do you?" Connor asked, scared.

"The First does," Malachi answered nonchalantly.

"What does he plan to do Mal?"

"I don't know. I don't know, okay! All I know is that whatever the First Evil is afraid of, it's because of something it has seen in the future – something unforeseen – and it has something to do with you, the deeper well, and the slayer line. It's taking steps to make sure that that future does not happen."

"How does killing the slayer line have to do with any of it?" Aidan asked.

"I don't know, Traverse." Malachi said in a somewhat scared voice. Odd because of the entire time they knew him, Malachi was either smug or overconfident – never scared. "I wish I knew," he said.

"Okay. Okay. We gotta help the slayers…" Aidan began to speak, but Malachi cut him off.

"We can't. In case you've forgotten, our little shit fest is about to start only hours from now."

"We can't just leave them there!"

"Aidan," Lawin put a hand on the watcher's shoulder, "I know this hard for you being a watcher and all. But you heard the First Evil. He's gotten to the scythe already. It's already too late."

"No, it hasn't. Its exact words were, "your old pal, 'Malcolm is the one concocting the spell for that.' There's still time."

"What do you think, Mal?" Lawin asked.

Malachi didn't say anything and neither did Connor. They just look at Aidan and then Connor spoke. "Travers, let me remind you that Mal and I still have to stop Marastoth."

"I know!" Aidan exclaimed.

"And I still have to fight off Anash before she blows up two thirds of humanity…" Lawin said and then added, "which considering the current problem of overpopulation may not be such a bad thing."

They glared at him.

"What? It's funny!"

Malachi took a deep breath and regarded Aidan. He didn't like this.

"Aidan, if you're going to take on the First. The slayers are too busy fighting demons that have erupted all over the world. Even if we are willing to involve them in our plans - which would be disastrous – we don't have time to muster an army to get behind you. You'll be alone on this."

"I know. I know."

"Are you willing to go at it alone?"

Aidan swallowed hard and nodded his head.

"Okay, here's what we got," Malachi asserted, "Travers you fight the First Evil. Lawin, you take on your psycho lady friend. Connor you try and stop Marastoth. I'll try to open a gate to Angel."

"What does Angel have to with this?" Lawin asked, surprised.

"It's a long story," Connor muttered.

"We can do this!" Malachi snapped then something dawned on him as he remembered who he was talking to.

"Uh… shit," they all repeated.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: When the Dream Ends

_There are choices in this world that you will be forced to contend with - forces by which there are no easy answers. To join up with a suicidal plan to take down the inner circle of an inter-dimensional law firm. To earn a soul with the foolish hope that it will get a girl to love you. To punish a father who may be more innocent than you're willing to accept. _

_ You don't make choices based on guarantees. You make them based on hope and faith. Illusions as they may be, they will be the only realities that you'll ever know before making that leap of faith._

_

* * *

_

"Malachi!" The voice within Malachi's head spoke with alacrity. It was one of the powers.

"Yes," Malachi answered in an hoarse whisper.

"The time is coming. Can you assure us that everything will turn out well in our favor?"

"You would ask me that? You're the higher power, and besides, my prescience isn't exactly at maximum nowadays."

"Don't be snide. You were allowed to stay behind on the condition that you could make Connor's final transformation into the Destroyer as harmless as possible."

_To us, M_alachi wanted to add. "I have done everything that I could." And he said it in a way that he was not in the mood to argue.

"Let's hope that's enough. This is the most critical time. We don't have to remind you what will happen if something goes wrong."

"Something wrong is bound to happen. We all know that," Malachi answered, "remember that we do not truly know anything about the nature of the Destroyer. Only scraps of information about what _it_ will do."

"Don't lecture us!"

"Why did you contact me?" Malachi snapped. Annoyed at the verbal acrobatics.

The light seemed to grow faint. "We want you to do something."

"To Connor?"

"Yes, now listen carefully."

Malachi listened and as he did something twisted up within him. When the being ceased talking, Malachi remained silent.

"I know your objections, but you will do this. It is the only way that we can control him."

Malachi blinked. "This is a very dangerous thing you are doing."

"We know."

"I'll…" Malachi hesitated, "try."

* * *

After his talk with his bosses, Malachi returned to find Connor waiting patiently for him like a hungry wolf. He ignored him began creating a mandala-like pictograph on the floor with the use of spray paint and some old markers.

"Can I ask you something?" Connor asked as he worked.

"Shoot."

"How long have you been doing this line of work, Mal?"

"Me? I don't know. I can't really be sure of the exact time when the powers made me what I am today. Sometimes, it feels like it's been only weeks; sometimes centuries. I think it's been around a thousand years now."

Connor was surprised. "You're kidding."

"Wish I was but I crap you not. This body," Malachi gestured at himself, "is just a façade. I'm actually a lot older, but whatever I have become, I am no longer the same person I was when I was human."

"I used to be human," Connor smiled wryly, "until I was hit by a van and survived." Connor chuckled. "… I wish I had died that day. At least I wouldn't be in this… nightmare."

"Nightmares have value."

"That's true. Connor Reilly was my dream. Or maybe it's the other way around… Maybe what I am is the lie. I don't know anymore."

"None of us do. The biggest lies are the ones that you find within truths," Malachi said.

Connor agreed. There are small lies and then there are big ones. The biggest ones are like a web. Connor laughed. You don't know anything about lies, he thought.

Malachi looked at Connor intently and for a moment, he sensed that he was planning something terrible. But Malachi had his own plans as well.

All in due time…

* * *

When Malachi had finished creating the circle of power, Aidan and Lawin walked over to him, at the same taking special care that they were sufficiently far away from Connor.

"Hey Mal," Lawin said, "before we all go to our certain doom. Would you mind telling us what's going to happen to Connor tonight?"

"Why the sudden interest?" Malachi asked suspiciously.

"You saw what he did. This entire mess is about him, right?" Aidan answered. "We don't really care much about prophecies or cosmic struggles, but if he's turning into something…"

"We want to know into what," Lawin said.

Malachi chuckled. "Didn't think you cared."

"No BS Mal," Aidan snapped.

"Or long winded speeches. Just the facts in a few terse phrases," Lawin added.

"Okay. Let me put it this way. As far as my bosses upstairs are concerned, Connie boy over there is like a black hole – a big fats vortex that swirls around until it eats everything up. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Crystal," Aidan answered vaguely.

"No, not crystal clear. In fact, far from it. No one up there knows what's going to happen to the Destroyer after this night is over. What we do know is that it's going to change everything." Malachi sighed. "How? We do not know."

"That's not very assuring," Aidan added.

"That's how real change is – you're not supposed to know how it will turn out."

"That's not very assuring," Lawin repeated.

"That's as good as it gets," Malachi answered.

Lawin and Aidan looked at each as if unsure what to say. Finally, it was Aidan who spoke first. "We'll see you on the other side Mal." They both began to leave.

"Good luck to you too." Malachi answered back as he watched them leave.

* * *

With Lawin and Aidan gone, and the mandala-like pictograph finished, Malachi brought Connor near it and explained that it was time. He got the go ahead from his bosses upstairs and all was prepared.

"Connor, it's time to find your father," Malachi said.

"What about Marastoth?" Connor asked.

"I'll take care of Marastoth."

"Can you take him on?" Connor smirked.

"Not really. He'll kick my ass, but remember this, Marastoth wants you to succeed. All that I plan to do is delay him."

"And that's supposed to reassure me?"

"No, but it helps to look at it this way. Marastoth is like your typical Bible-thumping rapture fundie. He wants to open up the deeper well because it's supposed to be a part of your 'destiny.'"

"This _really _isn't helping Mal."

Malachi grabbed Connor's arm. "As crazy as Marastoth may be, he knows what he wants. So do I. I will not let him open the deeper well. At least… I'll try." Malachi silenced him before he could make another protest. "You saw the murals deep within the deeper well. You know what is coming."

Connor shook his arm away. "I know what's coming. My question is what do I do about it."

"That, I do not know. The only thing I can do to help you is bring you to Angel. After that, you're on your own."

Connor's shoulder's slumped. When all this began, all he wanted to do was to find Angel. For just as it was back in Quortoth, he was compelled by some inner knowing that Angel held the key to his final transformation from unreal to eternal. The demon felt it, as did the human. And now, as he stood on the threshold, he did not know what he should do.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Yes, you can." You better, or we are screwed. "You're right to be scared. Prophecies and omens. At the end of the day, Connor – when all's been said and done – it's all just another rigged game. Large and cosmic, sure but they're all just conning us to serve their own ends."

"The powers." Malachi pointed skywards. "want you to fix all these Connor. All these problems began because of a series of fucked up choices. Anything can be stopped but you must first make the right choice. The powers didn't care about the Kluthu. They didn't care about the horde either. **They did not care **about this world blowing up. Everything in this ball of dirt is expendable to them! What they did care about is you! You must be made to choose. To choose to join your rightful place in this universe… hell, all of them!"

"Choice! That's all there is to it? You risked destroying the world so I could choose." It was said with bitterness.

"It's not s simple as that."

"Tell me something. How does the world being blown up have anything to do with me or my goddam destiny?"

"When this world was created everything had a destiny, from the smallest piece of lint to the largest sun. But you… You don't have one!"

"Jasmine… Sahjan…"

"… Were higher beings that got themselves into something that was more powerful than they could imagine. They were both destroyed for it!"

"The Nyazian prophecies…"

"Were bits and pieces of something greater! Things happened recently that shouldn't have happened. The Slayer line being unleashed. The existence of two vampire champions. The destruction of the blackthorn and, with them, the balance of chaos in this world… Everything's a mess because of these events. The universe is just trying to clean itself up that's all. We're not destroying the world. It's destroying itself! It's a cyclical motion designed to create balance. Until you came along."

Connor did not answer. Something within him knew this to be true.

Despite himself, Malachi felt pity for Connor. "Kid, I've been fighting this war for hundreds of years. You're father came in late, but he is now a part of this fight, and believe me, things aren't always that easy. Hell, the lines aren't always so clear and you often…" Malachi was choking on the honesty of his own words, "make more mistakes than right, but despite everything, you just have to believe in yourself, that you are doing something for the greater good."

"There are just no guarantees that you are on the right side is there?"

"There never was. Protect your ideals or protect the lives. Kills thousands to save millions. Goddam moral dilemmas…"

"It isn't that simple."

"Isn't it?"

Malachi's words brought Connor back to his time in Quortoth – his crimes there, the atrocities he and Holtz performed in order to survive. It also brought back the memory of the dying girl in the warehouse, of Jasmine devouring her followers…. They were all screaming and dying.

Malachi continued, "And no matter what choice you make, someone's going to tell you that you're wrong and that you did something evil because you didn't consider the 'what if.' Someone always gets hurt, Connor. That's what fighting is all about. People die in wars. Sometimes, soldiers. More often, innocents. Don't be fooled by the slogans that you're fighting to protect people. Sure, you may be fighting for the right cause but most of the time… you're just serving someone else's agendas. But you see, it's more than just about agendas. It's also about believing in a future. It's about believing that there is a better life out there for all of us – regardless of how daunting or impossible things may be. It's about believing that that despite all the hopelessness and the apparent lack of meaning in what we do, something good will come out of all of it."

"Do you believe that?"

"It's all that I have."

"Don't tell yourself that we're going straight to hell Connor." Malachi patted his back as he got up. "Because if we were, we'd have gone there a long time ago."

* * *

After that little pep talk, Malachi readied the spell that would transport Connor to where Angel was. It took a lot of backstabbing and plotting, but the right moment was finally here. It was now time.

The First felt it. It felt that the moment of truth at last. The First Evil whispered into Connor's ear and then appearing before him in the image of Angel. "You don't know it yet, but when you come face to face with what you are, I will be there to crush you. You're like me Connor – a god of gods."

"This is gonna sound cliché but I'm not like you," Connor told the illusion that was Angel/Angelus/Holtz, "Whatever darkness is within me. It's mine. My evil, my cruelty, my malice, my hate, all mine. Your evil is not my evil and Angel's goodness not is my goodness. I'm my own darkness and light. Good bye, _Dad_." Connor said with some hint of irony.

The creature laughed out loud, a death cry that was also call for release. "Hooray for you then. You defeated your demons," The First smiled deviously. "You think you'll be rid of me?" His face turned into Holtz. "You'll never ever be rid of me! We'll always be a part of you. Every time you sleep. Every time you close your eyes to hide away from the nightmares and terrors, we'll always be there. The sooner you accept the demon within you, the better off you'll be." The face turned into Angelus again. "You are more than your memories. You're more than the illusions you hide behind from." It turned back into Holtz and then quickly transformed back into Angelus. "I'll be seeing you around, kiddo."

"Yeah. I'll see you around too," Connor called out to the empty space, and walked over to Malachi, who had finished opening the portal.

"Talking to someone?" Malachi asked.

"The First Evil," Connor answered laconically.

"Good of him to drop by for one last chat," Malachi answered in an unsurprised tone.

"That guy talks too much."

"Well, what can it do? The First is incorporeal."

"Doesn't stop him from being a pain my ass." Connor looked at the swirling energy enveloping the portal. "All this time… all the plots and betrayals, and the powers really did want me to find Angel. I really thought they were out to screw me."

"Oh don't kid yourself. The boys upstairs really are dicks…" Malachi jabbed a finger upwards, "just like me. The thing is though is that we have to be. You see, in this day and age, everything is falling apart. It's meant to be. The ending of a cycle, and us guys upstairs, well we have to fight dirty to make sure that the resulting mess is kept to a minimum."

Connor's old feeling of contempt for Malachi returned and he swore at him and said, "And cleaning up mess means ending it?"

"If you want to see it that way. The powers can't really do anything much about all this - cosmic law and all that. We're not allowed! But you! You could stop it! No one else but you."

"But you said this was destined!"

"Exactly! Because you don't have a destiny!" Connor let him go, intrigued. "As I've said, everything is earmarked from the beginning, a destiny, a place in the world. This is manifested not by prophecies or great choices but by virtue of who and what you are: A cockroach cannot have the destiny of an airplane. These destinies are tied to the chaotic struggle of the universe, the apocalypse. For the powers, For us, For the demons. Anything that is not on our side of lines is against us and anything not on the other side is with us. In the end, there is no middle ground, everything was cut and dried; a nice little package for anyone who has the necessary prescience to see it… Until you."

"Which means?"

"That you have the power to create new destinies, new possibilities. By choosing what you want to be!"

Connor raised an eyebrow. "New possibilities that would serve the powers?"

Malachi smiled. Connor understood.

"What about you?"

"I'll try to delay Marastoth. But who knows? We both saw the murals. Perhaps, this was meant to be."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Me too," Malachi said in a hoarse voice. "One more thing, when you find Angel, he may not look human."

"Why is that?"

"The powers brought Angel to another universe, and there, time passes at a different rate."

"Believe me, I know that better than others." Connor seemed very sorrowful then. "How long has he aged?"

"I do not know." Connor did not answered and so he ventured to speak. "You ready?" Connor nodded and the mentalist opened a gaping portal right in the middle of the circle.

"I'll see you in the deeper well," Malachi said.

When Connor approached the swirling Chrysalis, Malachi did not betray his fearful anxiety. Though his face was like gravel, inside he was terrified. There was no telling what would happen next. This was where the vision ended. Not even the powers could foretell the next step. Marastoth believed that they would be freed of the old pattern. Malachi knew that, of course. He knew that this was part of their plan, to fool around with a cosmic accident, but he still could not get over the reality that he had actually allowed him to go through with his plan. He was gambling too much with his theory on what Connor was. If he's wrong, the consequences of that failure would be catastrophic. They would have another unknown, perhaps just as dangerous as the one that had destroyed Marastoth and the Wolf, Ram and Hart.

And that was not his only problem. What would happen if Aidan failed? What would happen if Lawin failed? Too many factors were at work the outcome was being determined by too many factors. Should he be wrong about any one of those factors, the world would be doomed. It was that simple.

Connor disappeared into the swirling energy and the circle of fate became poised for the final act.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Crucible

The place looked like Kansas - windy prairies in the middle of nowhere. All of it as far as the eye could see.

Angel looked up at the bright sky. His face, a mass contortion of muscles. His eyes feral red, mouth protruding with fangs - very similar to that of his grand sire, the master. For a brief moment, he remembered a girl, blonde and young and beautiful beyond comprehension. He forgot the name but he remembered the face. She felt like heaven, like being human. Then he remembered being human, in a time and place called Ireland. He remembered a family, the one's that he had left behind and the ones he had lost.

Faces, People and Places – too distant for the mind to comprehend – just vague sensations and shapes. He remembered them all.

He remembered a boy, brown-blondish hair with brooding blue eyes. There was another, a man with an English accent. He saw wisps of Platinum blonde hair. And then another girl, brown hair and very gregarious - She was always there for him.

* * *

These memories were from a life back then. He could not even remember the names but he felt them there, in the depths of his soul. He looked up once more to see an enormous demon with three heads, one wolf, one ram and a hart, moving towards him. It looked like a tornado, destroying everything in its path. It was fully conscious and it was coming for him. Angel smiled. He felt that he had somehow come full circle, and that for the first time, he was truly free.

The demonic entity loomed closer and Angel cringed at the finishing blow. It did not come. He was surprised to see that in front of him now, was a figure of medium height. He was battling the entity viciously, its image and form also seemed to be composed of energy, red and black mixing with the scales of a demonic carapace. It moved sideways and dodged a killing blow from the creature and then lashing out with its blade, knocked the demonic entity away. The figure ran towards Angel, picked him and together they ran away from the rampaging behemoth.

As they ran, Angel's rescuer shot spikes of red energy at the pursuing monster. This did not seem to inflict much damage as the creature spat out blasts of energy of its own. One of the blasts found itself on a loose pile of earth and it caused the ground around Angel and his companion to crumble, pulling them down to a darkened hole. They stumbled, fell, and before they knew it, they were at the bottom of a cavern. Angel muttered something, not in English. He wanted to know why he was being saved by the being.

It did not answer, and before anything else happened, Angel's rescuer started pummeling Angel's face. The punches fell down like hammer blows. Instinctively, Angel struck back and bit into the other person's neck, no longer needing to vamp out, his face set into a permanent vampiric monstrosity. Angel drank the blood! It was familiar. It was human. But more than that, it reminded him of something that he thought he had lost.

Suddenly the figure was no longer an unknown entity. It became human and it was looking directly at him. Light brown-blondish hair, and cold blue eyes.

Connor looked up for a moment. They had fallen several feet into the cavern. He wanted to chop Malachi into a hundred pieces for hurling him straight into the battle without any recourse to strategy. But here he was obeying him - no idea as to what he was supposed to do, no idea as to what will happen and definitely no idea as to what the consequences will be.

"You already know. You know it because the answer's inside you," Malachi had said; and he was right. Connor knew exactly what Malachi meant. But the thought still rankled him. Damn that bastard!

He looked at his father. The demon within had consumed him utterly. Connor was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. Laurence was gone. Holtz was gone. And Angel… God only knows what turned Angel into _this. _And he'll be gone soon too. He felt like he had lived countless millennia. They all died because of me…

No, not because of me. This was their lives. This was their choice. His fathers, he chuckled. I was just one part of it. But why does it have to be the people I love. Yes, love. I love Angel too it's not the perfect kind but I do love him. Oh God dad, why couldn't I have told you that before? Why did I have to cause us both so much pain? Why do I have to go through any of this again and again?

I'm not strong.

I'm just me. I'm no Destroyer. I'm no champion. I'm just a screwed up, lazy college kid, Connor Reilly spoke.

Please Angel. I can't lose another one. My life is dark and miserable enough as it is. Please, you need to pull through. You all need to pull through. Mom and Kit. Tracey. Terry and my friends in Stanford. Even Dawn…

I need you to stay alive you hear me. You filthy, self-righteous, condescending demon bastard. I need you to stay alive and live a happy life because, to tell you the truth I'm afraid my conscience is going to kill me and I'm going to brood myself to death. So yes, I am a selfish jerk. So survive already!

Connor looked at the entrance of the cave-in. He could hear that _thing _coming closer. Whatever he needed to do, He'd better do it bent his head down, panicking and at peace at the same time. His father was here, a demon but still his father… as much as Holtz And Laurence, he was helpless. What do I do? He wanted to scream.

What about you Connor Steven Nebadon Reilly Holtz Angel? Connor asked himself. What about you? What about the choices you have to make?

Sometimes, I feel like I'm just a scrawny boy bullshitting his way through life. Well, Mal did say that this was my destiny. Accept it. Walk into it. Let it be. Amen. The father will kill the son. Destiny: Accepting the choices by virtue of who you are and accepting that this world is ruled as much by consequences as it is by freedom. Maturity and all that bullshit.

There was clarity in his mind.

"Okay. Kill me." Connor muttered to the demon on his lap. Angel did not respond. He just laid there, unconscious. "Okay… That was stupid."

The greater demon beyond their sanctuary was looming ever closer. Fulfill the prophecy…then what you stupid fuck? He wanted to shout. Do you believe Malachi that if you do as he says everything will just be honky Dory? "What if he was only trying to trick you into going into that portal? Ever think about that? What if this creature isn't even Angel? He thought about that for moment. No, this is Angel I know his scent."

So what about you stupid fuck!

It's hard to believe, yes. But dammit, Connor. You're the son of two demons, you were raised and feared in a hell dimension, you fathered and killed a hellgod and to top it all off, you're not sure what's real because you have another memory that says everything on the other side is a lie.

"Ahh… Well, it's not like I never wanted to do this." He shrugged

Connor began beating on his father's face. He punched it with all his might until the demon fought back and it bit into Connor, draining him of his blood. The Destroyer felt his life slipping with each tick of his pulse. It was done, he thought. But it was not. Connor knew as Malachi knew, that Connor must commit himself. And death or destiny had nothing to do about it. It was a choice, a choice to become a champion like Angel. Failure to make that choice will result in the destruction of everything Connor cares about. It's a losing game. Heads they win, Tails you lose. One way or another Connor must become the Destroyer. Connor Reilly was disappearing. The life he loved was fading. And if it does will everything that is good and beautiful also fade away?

Isn't that what you're scared of? That everything that has ever made life worth living was a lie. If that is true then you're lying to yourself, he thought. Something good has to come out of all this. It has to. Angel believed in that; why not you? If he didn't believe that there could be a better world then he wouldn't have sacrificed so much for you!

You always believed that Angel was doomed to be in hell along with you but if that's the case he'd have gone there a long time ago, not here with you, fighting for each other.

What was it that they said about me? Something about my powers? Something about finishing the cycle? _Only blood can pay for our salvation_, Malachi had said.

"Complete the circle," Marastoth's voice echoed.

Mine, Connor thought ironically.

Out of faith in some guys assertion of his place and his choices, Connor pulled up to his father's neck and bit down hard. The blood that poured into his mouth tasted vile and evil but he sucked it up and kept drinking until he felt weak from Angel's own bite into his flesh.

Connor crumpled to the ground. The last thing he heard was his father calling out his name in an inhuman voice.

Connor smiled. "Hi dad," He rasped.

Then he died.

* * *

As Malachi promised, Connor found Angel. He did not really understand what prompted him to cause Angel to bite him. It was like he was compelled by a force that was deeper than he could possibly understand.

Somewhere deep within Connor, he felt the Destroyer stir into consciousness, and he knew that this more than just the machination of various forces. Here was something more powerful than what the Powers or the First Evil envisioned. He knew with clarity that this was the very moment all the prophecies and uncertainties pointed to. All that time he sought Angel for answers to his own enigmatic nature, all that time struggling with his demon and the humanity that he never had, all the fear and suffering lead to this point

But first, he had to do something. What? The pieces were here, but he has yet to put them together. He struggled between chaos and the destiny. And on both sides, the Destroyer's face – his face – leered at him.

"So, you are complete at last," it said in a taunting voice, "you thought you could get rid of me."

Connor said nothing. Something about the First's choice of words told him that it was afraid. Afraid of him. This made him smile and he reveled in that feeling. That old feeling of clarity, he loved it and he feared it, for although it lead to the answers he craved, it also lead to something much more powerful than he could possibly imagine. This is where he is meant to be. This is where Angel is meant to be. Everything is where they are meant to be. Marastoth was right. This is supposed to happen.

As Connor reveled in this clarity, his human self – his human ego, Connor Reilly – erupted from deep within him and swallowed him back into madness.

* * *

Aidan walked with renewed purpose and will. As Lawin, Malachi and Connor sought out their respective targets, he would have to fight Malcolm single-handedly… Malcolm who was working for the First and who was probably protected by an untold number of demons.

"What?" The realization dawned on him and he couldn't believe that he had allowed Malachi to talk him into this.

"Hey Aidan," a female voice called out to her. Standing right behind him was Ashley, the slayer the he was supposed to watch over. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Hey…o." Aidan looked around suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you actually."

"Aren't you needed by the council? You should be with the other slayers."

"You're right I should be," Ashley answered, "but before I get back, I want to make sure I know what you've gotten yourself into. You're a very difficult guy to find. I usually don't have a lot of trouble looking for a guy."

"You don't want to be here, Ash. Go back home." Just a second after the last breath left Aidan's mouth, Ashley had him pinned against a wall with only a single hand.

"I want answers, Travers and you owe me some," the slayer hissed.

"I… erk… I'm looking for Malcolm. I know where he is."

Ashley let go of him, "go on."

Aidan knew that time was low and knew that she wasn't in the mood for a long explanation either. "He's working with the First. He's planning to do unleash a plague that will kill the slayers stationed here. He already has begun and it's going to become worse if no one stops him."

"And you're going to stop him?"

"That's the idea," Aidan answered. "Look, I respect your need for answers but I really have to go. Time is short."

"I'll go with you," Ashley said and it was an order and not a request.

"And you're going to call Giles for backup right?" Aidan asked.

"Do you want me too?"

"No, a squad of slayers would be easy to spot, and by that point we are screwed. And besides, there's not much time. I have less than an hour to stop him."

"Fine let's go."

"Let's go? Just like that? No arguments or anythin'?" Aidan asked, incredulous.

"None for now, but I'll want more answers later on."

"Right." Aidan agreed reluctantly. Whatever prompted the slayer to follow him – it was because of someone else's direction. Who or whatever that is – he can only guess but for now, he had work to do.

* * *

Lawin's task would bring him once more back to the source that started all of this mess, his masters – the Ancients. More specifically however, this would bring him into their hidden sanctum. He had never gone there before, but now after their civil war and most them dead, he knew that this is where he would find Anash. And this is where he needed to stop her.

The sanctum could only be accessed via a special portal. Casting it had been simple enough. What he found on the other side however, scared him very much. Strewn all over the floor were the bodies of more than a dozen old people – all of them members of the ancients. They had been mutilated and slaughtered – the most powerful mages in human history, ageless and immortal – slaughtered.

Lawin followed a small stone passageway leading into a sort of lobby. It was there that the ancients conducted the most powerful of their spells. It was there that the scythe was forged. It was there that battle would be joined.

When he reached the lobby, scenes of devastation greeted him. At the center of it all was a flowing pillar green energy, and without a doubt, he found Anash hovering the thing like a moth to the flame. However, his former mentor had by now transformed into a horrendously deformed creature, tendrils extending from her body and her body now turned into some kind of gelatinous shell. She was also much larger easily three times larger than a normal human. Despite her immense size however, she also appeared to be injured – probably the result of her fight with all the ancients she massacred.

Lawin took stock of Anash's extensive injuries and judged them to be an advantage for him. "You're hurt," he said stoically, and glad that it was there.

"Yes, it was quite a battle. You should have been there… You should have seen me kill my own brothers and sisters." She smiled down at her bloody hands, now corrupted into inhuman claws. "Tell me, will your _friends _be joining us?"

"Connor, Malachi and Travers? No. They have their own targets. Your mine."

"Is that so? And what do you intend to do, hmmm?"

"Talk to you. Kill you. The difference is trivial, but I will try."

Ana paused at what she was doing and mused to herself a passing thought. She smiled a bit, "Yes, I believe I underestimated you."

"You planned me to kill Rukash, Vrill, Boluz and Urkonn, as well as help you retrieve Vorathon's heart for your little spell. There was no… misapprehension on your part. I was your pawn"

"Yes... Among others things," She looked up to the halls of the sanctum. "But that no longer matters. Vorathon is dead and I have his heart in my possession. Yes. And while I appreciate you foiling Rukash's plans, it is truly a pity that you did not kill him and the others as well."

"Ana! Rukash and those who you have killed are ancients! Like you!" He jabbed an accusing finger at the ancient. "Don't you care that you are dying out?"

"They betrayed humanity to the Horde!"

"And what of the woman who's planning to wipe out a three fourths of the human race!" Lawin said derisively.

"They are infected by the Kluthu, by the First Evil, and by countless abominations which are now about to spill from the deeper well. They will die along with all the other desecrations on this world. When the worst comes – and it will come - I will stop it! Vorathon's heart will allow me to create a spell that will burn them all! And after that, I shall raise my own army to destroy the remnants."

"A demonic army? With you as the demonic general of course." Lawin didn't need to say it. The accusation of hypocrisy was blatantly obvious.

She heaved herself into a self righteous indignation and sputtered a torrent of rage that was so unlike her. "Was I the one who made a pact with the demons? Was I the one who conspired with Vorathon! Was I the one who tried to open the deeper-well? No, I do this now with a clear mind and a clearer heart! We, the ancients, have done worse than what I try to do now. I am merely settling accounts. The demons will be destroyed! The Kluthu, The First and the remnants of Vorathon's legions! All of them! That is all that matters! We always knew that the war had to end someday. And if the cretins wish it to end today, then so be it! Albeit with devastating losses, humanity will survive. That is all that matters, survival!"

"What about the people you are about to kill?" Lawin muttered - suddenly seeing his one time mentor for who she really was.

"Acceptable. Always acceptable where survival is concerned."

"No."

Yes, the Scion within said.

"Yes," Anash said. "The alternative is complete extermination at the hands of the coming darkness."

Lawin was tired with words and headed straight to the point. "They could be saved Ana. If the Kluthu is killed before the transformation is over they could be saved. If the First is stopped…"

She snapped at him. "And who will do the killing boy? Your friend, the Destroyer? Malachi? The Powers? You cannot afford to be naïve anymore, Lawin. The Kluthu cannot be destroyed. They are beyond the reach of any power in this world. None of the higher beings care about us! Humanity must fend for itself."

"You don't get to decide that! What you are doing is no better than suicide for the entire goddam human race."

The ancient laughed. "And here I thought you believed in nothing but yourself. Your innocence is disheartening, child. You have no inkling at the consequences of allowing things to go on as they are."

"Give me Vorathon's heart, Ana." Lawin said with finality, knowing full well now that talk was pointless.

"No," she said gently.

"Give it to me!"

Ana opened the front of her tattered dress to reveal a large gaping wound. Inside, the wound was a beating demonic heart. "No," She said with finality.

Lawin looked down in dismay. He had one option left if he was to stop a mystical nuclear bomb. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Me too."

Lawin summoned the Scion, and then attacked with a feral rage. Anash flung several fireballs at Lawin but he easily dodged them and thus, get close enough to impale Anash with a blade. The ancient gasped at her wound and she crumpled to the ground.

Lawin looked at the broken body of his one time mentor and he could feel a deep, confusing agony in the depths of his soul. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and plunged his hand into his former mentor's body to pull out Vorathon's demonic heart. He was about to pull it out when Anash's eyes flared red and she grabbed Lawin's arm before he could pull it off completely.

"_Oh shit_…"

Lawin was thrown like a sack of dirt across the hall. When he got up what he saw made him gasp in horror. Before him, Anash's body had turned into that of a giant serpent, not unlike that of Vorathon's. She flexed her new found body and her smiling face looked directly into Lawin's own, it was the only human part of her left.

"You didn't really think it would be that simple now did you, child?"

"I was pushing my luck."

Anash laughed good naturedly. "I'm sorry, Lawin. I know you may not like what I am about to do, but believe me when I say that there are no alternatives. You and your allies are doomed to fail."

"Kill three fourths of the world to stop a demonic war? Call me provincial but I think justifying genocide is a little bit of a long shot even for me." Lawin spat out a wad of blood, got up and summoned the Scion to create him two concentrations of energy shaped blades on each of his hand. Next, he intoned spell that gave him the ability to amass energy into a protective shield. The effort drained a lot from Lawin and he began to feel excruciating pain on the back of his skull accompanied by vivid sounds.

"Are you sure you want to do this Zarakite?"

"I am the Scion Patriarch of the Zarakim. Direct descendant of Amazarak. What do you think, Ancient?" Lawin threw himself headlong against his one time mentor.

* * *

Malachi's task was perhaps the most difficult one of all. He had to contend with Marastoth, his one-time ally who inevitably turned on him and his masters, the powers that be. For the hundredth time, Malachi cursed himself for his secret alliance with the Kluthu god, but again it was tempered by the certainty that he had no real choice at that time.

Reaching the Deeper Well was not a difficult task. With Los Angeles in chaos, and the rest of the world in utter disarray, no one really understood where the hysteria was coming from. Malachi however, was among the few people who knew and he steeled himself for the coming events – knowing full well that Connor's reunion with Angel was preordained by more than just the tyranny of higher beings. Destiny was at play here – and with it, its master, reality. They were poised to spin into an explosive new universe, a universe that will be decided by what Connor will do next.

As Malachi approached the deeper well, he used what little prescience he had left to avoid the sparse number of Kluthu'kar guarding the area. The gateway leading to the Deeper Well had been forcibly destroyed and now lay open for any invader to approach.

From deep within the Deeper Well's central cavern, a monstrous underground area, Marastoth called out to Malachi.

"Mal! Over here!" Malachi hesitated and crouched lower but the demon's voice called out once more. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have reached this place in one piece."

Malachi walked over to the main anteroom of the Deeper Well, and regarded the area around him. Marastoth had activated the murals on the ceiling and now the various shapes and forms of the prophecies concerning the Destroyer circled around them like so many images. All around them the cases of the elder gods had been opened and Marastoth had contrived some sort of spell to siphon their energy into a twisting sphere of energy, feeding it with immeasurable power from immeasurable beings.

Malachi was horrified by what he saw, yet he kept his face emotionless. He knew this would happen. And even though he was ready, the sight of his fears made real still unnerved him. All around him, the walls of the deeper well seemed to shake and shiver with energy, as Marastoth flew over head like a wraith, his human visage peeling away to reveal a reptilian-like face underneath, leering with soulless black eyes at the mentalist.

"Rejoice Mal. We are participants in creation and destruction. The death of the gods of Deeper Well and the ascension of the Destroyer. There can be no greater privilege than to be a part of that."

"It doesn't have to be this way," Malachi told the Kluthu god as he approached him.

"You've seen the vision, Mal. You've seen it as well as I have. We both know that it has to be this way. The new universe – the new reality that Connor will bring forth – shall be born from the blood of the old ones." Marastoth pointed at Chrysalis – the sphere of energy.

"You'll destroy us all."

"Of course! From the corpse of the old shall rise the new. You cannot change anything without Destroying it. That is Connor's gift to us all."

"I will stop you!"

"Don't even try."

Malachi did not say another word. Although he knew that he would be beaten, he had to buy Connor time. Whatever will happen next is still an unknown. He had to hope for the best. At this point, Malachi's only weapon was hope.

* * *

Aidan and Ashley reached Malcolm's hideout in time. It was a fairly large faux Spanish structure. The streets were empty and quiet, but also rife with signs of chaos.

As they made their way inside the building, they found the energies already seeping into the main lobby where the spell was being conducted. There can be no time for talk. They quickly gathered up their weapons and attacked. Three burly demons were the only things which stood in their way, and Ashley quickly dispatched them.

They made their way to the lobby where Malcolm, the former watcher, was conducting a spell.

"Malcolm!" Aidan howled, pointing his gun at him.

Malcolm didn't budge rather. He chuckled audibly. "You're like a roach, you know that you bloody Kiwi bastard? I put a bullet into your brain and yet somehow you survive."

"Don't worry about it mate, New Zealand is still best at Rugby."

"Ha! Rugby. More like sheep shagging."

"Hey! Guys," Ashley interjected, aiming her crossbow straight at Malcolm's back, "can we maybe not talk about sports right now?"

"Oh look. You brought your slayer with you."

"I brought myself, tough guy," Ashley spoke up.

"Townes, right?" Malcolm looked at slayer. "I remember you. One of the new ones. Well, let me end my lil' speech by saying that Aidan is involved with things that are a whole lot worse than you can imagine. For example, did you know that LA is about to become a battleground between various demonic factions?"

"Buffy and the others are already on it," the slayer answered defiantly.

"Too bad for them then love. Your sisters are about to die en masse, along with that bitch, Summers. It's a trap you see. But don't worry I can accommodate the both of you."

"Aidan told me about your little plague."

"Oh, Traverse told you?" Malcolm looked at Aidan, somehow his face looked liked it was being consumed by eldritch energies. "Let me fill in the missing parts. The spell I'm conducting now, it's going to fry every slayer in the world and all thanks to Aidan there."

"Aidan?" Ashley gasped in surprise as she turned to the watcher next to her.

Aidan did not speak. It was Malcolm who spoke for him, "remember the last few weeks when the demons seemed to have had a big foight? I won't bore you with the details, but one of the factions tried to take the scythe so they could use you," Malcolm pointed at Ashley, "and your sisters to fight for them…"

"We would never…"

"Quiet, love!" Malcolm snapped, "trust me, you'll love this. While Travers was gone, AWOL, he met a few… gentlemen, who had similar interests as he did a spell on the scythe. To make a long story short, Aidan and… ehem… his mates decided to take things into their hands their hands. One of their goals was to protect the slayer line from the demons that wanted to corrupt them..."

"Shut up!" Aidan snarled. Ashley remained quiet.

Malcolm continued talking, "… and the only way they could do that was to put a teensy weensy spell on the scythe."

Ashley looked at Aidan, distrust plain on her eyes.

"Fast forward," Malcolm chuckled, "Aidan came to my rescue, and he told all about the spell that he and his mates did to protect the scythe. Ain't that lovely love? You see, the demons that wanted to corrupt the scythe were enemies of the First evil, and well, they're gone now, again thanks to Aidan and his mates. And to make the victory all the more sweeter, he helped me retrieve the only means to destroy the slayer line once and for all."

Ashley seemed speechless. She didn't understand what motivated the blind madness in Malcolm. "Why?" was all that she could say.

"Why?" Malcolm laughed, "simply, love. The slayers are a nasty little bump that the First wants to remove, and I will oblige." Malcolm turned to his altar and removed a small crystal. "This lovely little trinket is attuned to the Slayer Scythe. Before this night is over, the scythe will be corrupted and with it you and all the slayers now fighting a desperate battle.

"We used to be friends, Colm," Aidan said and then he pulled the trigger. The sounds of gunshots were drowned by the rain and sirens, but the bullet smashed into some kind of force field and they quickly fell to the floor clanking.

"Ah sod!"

"Yes, sod indeed. You're too late Travers."

"Yeah, what am I late for this time?"

"Even if you can kill me, even if you can stop me, Angelus' Doppelganger has already reached the Deeper Well. You can't imagine how powerful that creature has become."

Malcolm was suddenly alarmed but he kept his mind focused.

"What is he talking about Aidan?"

"That ain' your problem, slayer. I suggest you focus on yours," At the sound of his voice, several Turok Han erupted into the room from portals which appeared out of nowhere. "You didn't really think I'd be so careless now, did you?"

"No I suppose not." Aidan said then he and Ashley fought their attackers, while Malcolm returned to what he was doing.

"Real nice Travers," Malcolm muttered to himself, "getting a girl to fight your battles for you. Well, it won't matter much longer, mate."

"Oi! Travers." Malcolm yelled and Aidan and he showed him what appeared to be a remote. "Aside from vamps, the room is also full of explosives."

Ashley and Aidan exchanged looks. They can't escape. The Turok Han were blocking the exits. There wasn't much time.

"Bye, Travers." Malcolm said as he entered a small hidden passageway in the altar. Once he was gone, the room exploded into a giant fireball.

* * *

Angel was completely disoriented but not far gone. Connor? It had been so long. What was he doing here?

Whatever happened just now, the creature that had once been Angel still had to find a way out of the mess that has befallen him. The vampire got up and transformed his body into a hardened image of monstrosity. Looking pretty much like a behemoth, Angel threw himself at the looming beast of the Wolf, Ram and Hart.

He lashed out with claw, fangs and inhuman strength. The blows had no effect on the monster though but it did nothing to dissuade Angel from his own attack. When the Wolf, Ram and Hart has had enough, it retaliated with a series of swipes and charges.

Angel was thrown around and his broken form was hurled into the verdant plains of the prairie, his body smashed and disfigured but he still managed to pick himself up and attack the overgrown demon again.

* * *

Pain is always relative

_You could live your entire life in hell and never notice it._

_You eat it, breathe it, sleep with it, awaken to it, laugh, cry and lose all sanity_

_And you'd still not know what it is._

_I'm used to pain. I grew up with it, endured it until it forged what I am now_

_But pain has nothing to do with suffering. It has to do with understanding that there is something better, something good and worthy of hope._

_Goodness, Happiness, Love… _

_Love_

_That's pain. It tells you that something is missing,_

_That things don't have to be always about hell._

_You feel it when you kiss a lover._

_When you recall your childhood_

_Or when you step into a world that is not of darkness for the first time._

_We demand pain. We demand it to tell us that there is such a thing as something better. _

* * *

"What are you afraid of?"

Connor was lying sprawled on the ground. The puncture wounds on his neck had taken a lot of blood out of him. He had found Angel, and this was how it was supposed to end. The father will kill the son. Again and again and again.

"Filthy demon." The voice cried out within him.

"You killed him! You killed her. You killed them all. They're all dead because of you."

_I'm hallucinating!_

"Are you?"

Connor opened his eyes to see that he was back in his house, in his bedroom, in the place he had always known to be real. In front of him was a 13 year old boy who was barely a teenager. He wore clothes made up of demonic skin. His face, his hands and any flesh that was not covered by clothing was covered by fleshy coverings. The young boy was very powerful despite his youth and he gave Connor a demeaning look as if the older person was someone inferior.

Steven Holtz. This was a part of Connor – a part that was broken and shattered, no one wanted him.

"You're not real," Connor sobbed, curled near the wall, trying to block out memories of a distant world inhabited by powerful demons that tried to create a god out of a frail, skinny boy. "…Not real…"

"Was Holtz's love for you real?" Steven Holtz stared down at Connor menacingly. "You betrayed him!"

"He betrayed me!"

"You betrayed the light! You betrayed all that's holy! You betrayed everything that is good and decent in your life by consorting with lies and evil. Get up you filthy demon! Get up!" Steven kicked Connor in the ribs. "Get up, wretch!"

Steven grabbed Connor's neck and began yelling at him. "You filthy demon! You filthy demon! You killed Holtz! You killed Cordy! You killed an innocent girl! You wretched, filthy demon! You deserve to burn in hell for all eternity! You and your father and your bitch of a mother for what you've done!" Steven's face contorted into a sick smile. "Does she cry out to you, that girl in the warehouse? Does she cry out for you to die?"

Connor could only cry. "You bastard son of a bitch! Do you feel no remorse for what you've done? Do you wonder each passing day how you could forgive yourself?"

Steven Holtz ranted on and on. "Filthy Demon. Filthy Demon. You and your filthy magicks!"

"Please…" Connor pleaded with tears in his eyes. The wind seemed to howl harder and harder, scraping the pale skin of the boy. "Please," he cried out some more.

"You killed him." Connor Reilly stood over Connor. "You killed my dad." There was no hate in Reilly's voice, only a deep sadness.

Connor Reilly – another past, another dream gone. Here he stands, an illusion from a little box of a false reality, of sweet love and sentimentality – a lost treasure thanks to the machinations of a dead sorcerer and a speeding van.

"Oh God!" Connor wept and tried to turn his face away but Reilly crouched down low and so Connor could still see him from side of his eyes.

"He's gone. Because of you. Because of us." Connor Reilly smirked slightly, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Holtz. Angel. Laurence. And the body count keeps piling up. Demons. People. Lives. They were right to call you destroyer, you know. Everything you touch ends up dead." The voice kept becoming sadder. "I always thought that it could be done. I always thought that the easy answer would work… Live in peace… live in happiness… Family… Love… Friends… Purpose. It all seemed so simple but I should've known the price would be more than we can bear… And in the end, it would only force us to betray who really are."

"It had to be done."

"Can we afford to keep doing _what needs to be done?_"

"You know the answer to that," Connor – the real Connor - answered Connor Reilly.

"I guess you really are Angel's son. What will happen to me?"

"You're here. You're real. As real as all the others in my sickening twisted head."

Reilly nodded solemnly. "Do you ever think we would be able to live with ourselves someday?"

"In time… I… don't know."

"You better get on out there. Its show time." Reilly motioned outside the house.

"Where?"  
"Out there. It's time we make the final choice."

"I can't," Connor answered.

"You must." Connor Reilly said and he disappeared.

Despite the fear, Connor obeyed and so he picked himself up and walked outside the house. What greeted him was not the suburban street that he knew to be real. No, it was Quortoth. He was back in Quortoth and the house from which he emerged had all but disappeared. Connor was alone in the vast wilderness of the hell dimension, but for one other person – a demon, a hell god, a creature that was waiting to be born – the destroyer.

"Hello," the demon greeted, "You're late."

"Took the bus. Sorry."

"It's time buddy. The circle is upon us. This is the moment of my birth. The moment where I create myself… through raw choice. Angel has brought forth the end of days through me – his son. Things turned out not exactly according to plan but it's good enough.

"You're full of crap, you know that?"

"Enough talk. It's time that we become as one," The demon called out. "From the unreal to the real… This is the final turn of the wheel. The last march to oblivion before the universe sets itself anew. Gods themselves will fall before me." The destroyer – Nebadon – called out without the least bit of fear or hesitation. "Behold, am I not a terrible power? Am I not the creature worshipped by gods? Am I not both creator and destroyer? Am I not you deep down?"

"Can you get any gayer?" Connor retorted.

The demon laughed and the two were consumed by a massive swirling red cloud. "It's over Connor. It's really over. You can do nothing for I have arrived! It's time you fade away back into the illusions that spawned you."

"You're also an illusion – no different than Connor Reilly or Steven Holtz." Connor answered.

"And yet the universe awaits my arrival."

"And yet Kit and Colleen Reilly wait for Connor Reilly' return," Connor retorted. "And yet Steven Holtz was a murderer, a killer. You are not real. At least, no less real than they were…"

"Oh and who are you supposed to be if you are not any of those personas - not me? Look around you," the demon gestured around the desolate wilderness of Quortoth, "there is no reality beyond what is forced upon us, no universe beyond that which you are willing to create for yourself."

"No," Connor Angel answered. "We are more than that. I am because of the choices that I have made."

"And did you choose this?" The demon asked amused.

"I am here and I am."

"Ha! Cute, but no less futile. You have served your purpose but now, you no longer matter. I am the new truth, the new reality, the potentiality manifested. It does not matter whether you are Steven Holtz or Connor Reilly or whatever… Your time is passed."

Connor Reilly felt the demon's words plunge into his deepest soul. It was there, the temptation to plunge into oblivion: to disappear into oblivion – from nothing into nothing – from the real to the unreal. Connor certainly felt that he was unreal and this deepening emotion was terrifying indeed for he had faced it before and had failed utterly.

And yet, he could not bring himself to disappear. He is here. He was led here and yet he chose to be here – now.

This was not truth or fact. It was more than that. This was something deeper. It was reality. It was awareness – true awareness. Connor had plunged himself into something that was connected with the universe. His heart and soul drowned in this awakening. It consumed him whole and he welcomed it. All of it. He was more than a demon. More than a man. More than his memories, potential or his destiny. He had touché something that was eternal, and unbroken. Existing because he chose to create himself.

I choose and I am.

I choose to create myself.

I choose to destroy myself.

I choose to create my destiny.

I choose therefore I am.

Destiny and free will merged into one. Choice creating destiny that it may lead to more choice. A cosmic paradox, just like Connor. The circle was forming. It was so real that one could almost feel it to be alive. It was terrifying. It was awesome. It was salvation. It was everything and yet it was nothing. And in all of it, there was Connor - dead once more; reborn once more. And the cycle of destruction, the path of destruction continues.

The demon was no longer amiable. It was glaring at Connor with barely contained fury. Connor laughed out loud. The universe was falling apart but it was okay. He understood.

"What's so funny?" the destroyer demanded.

"All this time I was afraid of you…"

"You should be!"

Connor ignored the snarling demon. "I thought you were the evil part of me, but you were only a miserable shadow, some dumbass messiah worshipped by some dumbass hellgod. Before, I was afraid. Afraid that you would take over but you see, it hasn't occurred to me that I can stop you."

"You can't stop me."

"Thanks," Connor smiled, "You wouldn't have said it if I weren't truly a threat." The mask had fallen and the truth was painfully obvious that it was a wonder how it could have been hidden.

Without any warning, the destroyer flew into the air and plunged his blade into Connor's gut.

"How's that for a threat bumpkin?" the demon snarled in an inhuman voice.

Connor only smiled, blood flowing down the side of his lips. "All this time… I was scared of my own shadow."

"Die! Die! Die!" The Destroyer plunged his sword deeper into Connor and smashed him into the ground.

"I was scared of who I was… scared of what I could become…" Connor said the words as if in a fugue. "But you're just an illusion."

"Shut up!"

"But you see, I'm more than a demon, more than human sure, but it's okay now." A smile creased Connor's face. "It's all okay. _I know_"

"Shut up!" The demon flew several feet into the air and slammed into Connor, dragging him up several meters in flight and then hurling him like a sack of brick into the shattered ground. Connor smashed with a sickening thud but he got up smiling - bleeding but smiling.

"You can't hurt me," Connor said nonchalantly.

"Wanna bet?" snarled the demon and it unleashed several spikes of demonic lightning into Connor. The assault ionized the air around Connor and all around, everything ended up looking like a train wreck. And yet, Connor was still standing, still indomitable.

The Destroyer, frustrated by his ineffectual attacks, flew straight at Connor and glared at him. "You are not real! I am! Me!" The terrible voice, the blinding rage, the monstrosity… None of it mattered. For it was all but a show, "Me! Me! You are nothing!"

"Oh shut it!" Connor parried a blow from the Destroyer and struck back with a hard left jab. "you're getting overdramatic."

The Destroyer flew yards away, suddenly scared but at the same time awed that its prey had hurt him. "You're not real, Reilly!"

"I'm not Connor Reilly," Connor responded and he attacked the demon ferociously. "I am more than Connor Reilly. I am more than you."

"You are a weak pathetic little boy!"

"What does that make you?" Connor laughed. "Concentrated drama?"

The Destroyer attacked, but Connor managed to block the blows, dodging them as if he had rehearsed all of it his entire life. As the demon thrust and sliced his way, Whistler's words plunged into Connor's head like a deluge. _You are Angel's son. Face darkness and defeat it, just as Angel did before you._

Connor pushed his attack and struck the Destroyer backwards. The demon changed into human form, Connor Reilly. The human boy struck back but Connor dodged the attack and struck him back, kneeing him on the gut then smashing his elbow into his face. Connor Reilly then became Steven Holtz, resplendent in his garments made out a demon's tattered flesh. Again, Connor struck him down.

The illusion shifted between everything that Connor had ever been: from human to demon and back again. All the pain and sorrow, all the struggle and conflict served to culminate into this single point, the point of realization when Connor would rise beyond the human, the demon and the mundane and become a being that, for lack of better words, would be known as the Destroyer.

Once more, the illusion shifted his appearance back into the Destroyer, the demon. He looked at Connor menacingly accusing him of guilt, of sin, of betrayals and failures. But Connor was beyond that now, beyond all the pain, and he shattered what remained of the demon, of his demons, with a single punch to the face.

And in that single act, Connor was whole.

"It's okay." Connor closed his eyes and began to breath deeply. It was done. It's now time for him to go back.

* * *

Connor opened his eyes. He was breathing.

He was alive. He didn't feel it but he knew that something incredible had happened. Creation was reshaping itself to fit the changes done in this singular moment.

What are you! someone asked Connor

Where did you come from?

You're not supposed to be here!

Abomination!

"Yet I am here." Connor quieted down the voices and he summoned his blade to his side. The litany slithered up to him and into his waiting hand.

Every part of his body felt like a living hell. He lost a lot of blood. He had bruises in every limb. He could barely focus his eyes. He could barely stand. His finger felt numb. Sweat was all over his back. His forehead was covered with blood. His right arm was dislocated. The puncture wounds on his throat were leaking small amounts of blood. His vision kept twisting and turning. He felt like puking. He felt like falling down. But most of all, he felt like dying.

Despite all of this though, Connor felt more alive than he had ever been, and he quickly dug himself out of the cavern.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Baptism

* * *

Twenty Seventh Entry of Steven Holtz's Journal

The Kluthu'kars have arrived. And they've brought one of their Gods with them. The creatures seemed to create demons out of thin air. I would like to say more about these _things _but time is of the essence. Just trust me when I say that they are very powerful.

The portal is almost finished but, unfortunately we don't have the luxury of time.

The war that Steven and I have so meticulously planned is now almost underway: It shall buy us the time we need to complete the portal. The poor, primitive Nog Hotoths thought that we were going to use it as a weapon in our war. The truth is, I only want my son freed from the demonic corruption within him and jump into the portal and leave the demons to slaughter each other…

Today, I assembled to inspect my son's _army_. It was sizable but we were still badly outnumbered.

Steven came up to me and offered a suggestion. It involved the use of his blood to strengthen the barbarian demons. Apparently, infusion of demonic powers is one of his new found talents. I was lost to what he had said so I asked him to explain it to me. The warlocks, he explained tested many things about Steven. One of the things they discovered is that he was, if I may be quite crude, a walking hell dimension, a creature that could create demons, just like the Kluthu'kar gods. Then I realized what was really happening.

I was angry when I asked Steven why he had not told me of this earlier. He said that he was afraid that I might despise him. He said that he hoped that the things done to him by the Kluthu'kar would just fade away. I hugged my son and assured him of my love after which I then hit him on the head for denying the truth! That is, I believe, a flaw in him – denial. He refuses to believe that darkness is very real. I just hope it will not be his undoing.

The Nog Hotoths were assembled for war.

The mindless curs were too dull minded to question Steven's motives. The drops of blood from Nebadon, mixed in a cistern for the demons to drink have empowered our unwitting pawns. Everything was set. The drums of war are sounding for the march of destruction.

* * *

The Wolf, Ram and Hart behemoth looked at the figure that called them out. It was Connor, bloodied and beaten but still standing. He was a frail figure but something about the way he stood spoke that he was becoming dangerous… unpredictably dangerous.

He stood calmly a few feet from the snarling abomination. His leather like armor was already scratched and torn in several places, and faint signs of red were all over Connor's exposed flesh.

The wolf, ram and hart attacked, and Connor attacked with more power than he felt in his entire life.

* * *

Malachi fought Marastoth with all his might – or with what's left of it. Even with his prescience and centuries of experience, he was still no match for a hell god. Malachi's battle with Marastoth lasted only a few minutes before the demon god stood over his beaten foe, sneering at him as lay on the floor.

"You didn't really think you could beat me, did you Mal?"

"It was worth a try?" Malachi rasped and then spat out a wad of blood.

"Yeah, but we both know that you never really had a chance. Nice clone-body by the way. New one?"

"Yeah, Connor destroyed the old one. Tore out the eyes and everything."

"Ah, good old Connor," Marastoth said. And although his foe had been beaten, he was still wary of him or any tricks that he might try.

"Yes, good old Connor. Let's talk about good old Connor, shall we? Let's talk about how you're taking the circumstances about his…" Malachi got up and did a quoting sign with his hand, "destiny too seriously."

"You know the prophecy…"

"We both know that Connor is more complex than just a simple prophecy!" Malachi snarled.

"Call it whatever you want," Marastoth said, "but there is nothing you can do to stop me. I will release every demon god in the deeper well and when the Destroyer completes his final transformation, he will destroy them all… just as the prophecy foretells."

"You sound like a rapture-fundie." That did it, because Marastoth reached down, grabbed Malachi's neck and raised him up.

"Oh, Mal!" Marastoth said laconically, "what made you and your bosses think that you could use me as a pawn?"

"Crazy… hrk… bastards like you… hrk… are easy to manipulate," Malachi said.

"Well, I hope your bosses will think twice in the future," Marastoth released Malachi's neck, and then encased him in a cage of eldritch energies. "In the meantime, I want you to see with your brand new eyes what it is you so foolishly sought to control."

"You don't have to release the demon gods…" Malachi pleaded. "Connor's transformation… does not require it… Please! If you're wrong, if the prophecies about Connor are wrong, you'll doom us all by releasing the deeper well!"

"I'm not wrong," Marastoth said calmly. "cue evil laugh. Ha Ha Ha!"

As Marastoth made his little laugh, a powerful blast erupted from behind. The two of them turned their eyes to the source of the attack, and they were greeted by a twisting monster filled with black ooze and smoke, scars and torn flesh erupting like small bubbles of black pus.

The Angelus Doppelganer loomed overhead, a fierce entity of immense power. It used to be Connor's combined fears made manifest, but now with the First Evil's influence it had become more than that.

"Look's like we have a new contender," Malachi said from his cage of energy. Marastoh did not speak, and neither did the newcomer. They simply attacked each other with ruthless vigor.

* * *

He should have been dead…

Aidan pulled himself out of the ruins of the blast. The Turok Hans had been killed, but he too was severely injured. He couldn't find Ashley. He quickly crawled his way out of the rubble, ignoring the pain, and tried to find the stims in his coat. He found one and jammed it into heart. Immediately, the chemicals drove his healing rate to higher levels, and the parasite symbiote inside his body rapidly repaired the damages to his body very quickly.

Aidan got up and dug through the rubble. He quickly found Ashley. She was breathing but her hear beat was very faint. Aidan looked around to examine his surroundings. The barrier was gone and he was clear to pursue Malcolm,

He hesitated but Ashley's arm shot up and grabbed him. "Get him! Go!"

"You're hurt rather badly."

"I'll live. Trust me, I'll live. Slayer healing and all that."

Aidan hesitated and then he quickly left.

He quickly found Malcolm trying to complete the spell in a collapsed room not too far from the main lobby. There was nothing else to stop him and he had clean shot. Aidan took it and nearly shot Malcolm but it missed by an inch.

Malcolm's nerve snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Aidan! Why won't you just die!"

Aidan kept silent. Blood was running down from the bullet wound in his head. Dark colored veins were all over his wounds and his eyes looked like that of dead man. Yet despite all those features, his heartbeat was still strong… strong and hungry for vengeance.

Malcolm lost it. "Stay dead you bloody ponce!" The other watcher escaped from out of the shattered room and into a more defensible position on the canopy of the manor.

Aidan walked haggardly amongst the ruins. Above, a section of the roof had collapsed and rain poured down on their heads. Aidan looked down, towards a puddle. He saw his reflection in it, pupils deathly white, dark colored veins erupting all over his exposed flesh and blood flowing from the bullet wound in his forehead. He looked like death itself.

His brief disorientation had allowed Malcolm time to retreat even further into other rooms. But something was amiss also. Somehow, he could sense that he was no longer alone. There were other beings moving around the area. A trap? No time to lose his senses. There was killing to do.

Aidan kicked down the door to the room Malcolm retreated to. A zombie jumped him from behind but its head instantly flew off. Aidan ran across the wet lobby, all the way to the stairs leading to the canopy of the highest floor. Undead were everywhere in the place. They kept trying to bar his way but Aidan tossed them around like rag dolls with his powers.

"Aidan! You little S-Oh-B! Why do you always have to make it so goddam personal? You're always so fucking emotional! For God's sake go to a therapist or something! Fix that head of yours. Why don't you answer, huh, Captain Anesthetic! Lost your tongue? I hope it's not decomposing. Or perhaps something else is decomposing! Like that thing down _there_. Is that why you didn't fuck Ashley like you did with Brigid? Did Aidan junior fall off? Demon parts failing? Turning into a real zombie?" Malcolm fired a few shots and hit Aidan a couple of times in the chest but the other guy kept coming. "Shit! Die already!"

Malcolm shot a few more rounds and then ran to a small room to hide. "Help!"

The first appeared in the form of Glessing! "Having trouble?"

"What does it look like? The bastard is like a pit bull! I need help."

"Oh for Pete's sake! Angelus is about to fight the Kluthu. Can't you handle this by yourself?"

"I can't help you if I'm dead," Malcolm snapped, and just like Caleb before him, the First Evil deigned to give Malcolm some of its power.

* * *

Aidan opened the room where Malcolm was hiding. On his shoulder, hung a bag full of armaments and explosives. It wasn't locked. The entire place was empty but a massive hole through a section of the steel got his attention. "What the bloody…"

Before Aidan could finish his sentence. He was stabbed in the gut and thrown across the entire room and into the canopy. When he finally got to his senses he saw blood pouring out from his belly. "Oh, bollocks!"

"I'd say so, Aidan. A Little birdie gave me an upgrade." The voice was Malcolm's but it was mixed with an unnatural demonic pitch. Aidan looked up to see an Eight foot tall demon with claws made out of pure energy. "What's wrong Traverse, surprised?" Malcolm spat a little acid at Aidan and the other guy had to take off his leather coat to avoid getting acid burns. "These days, I come fully loaded."

Aidan quickly got up and jumped backwards, shooting a couple of rounds at the enormous demon rampaging towards him. No good. He ran past the canopy and leapt down to a ledge. Rolling and then getting back on his feet. He tried to get a bearing on how long he could outrun Malcolm's new form. Somehow, he had to get to away from the rampaging demon.

He turned a corner and fell face flat into a room full of bodies – apparently, loose ends which Malcolm had to take care of. Carcasses – He was necromancer. Explosives. Aidan had an idea.

"Where're you going Aidan? Don't you want to play?" Malcolm lumbered after the necromancer. His claws were shining brighter and brighter. "Aidan. Come on now. Dinna run away like that. You and me's got a lot to do. Aidan?" Malcolm was becoming amused by the cat and mouse game. He walked down the corridor yapping on and on. He was cut short when a lone figure tried to tackle him. It was cut into two.

"Well, that was stupid..." Malcolm was surprised when he looked down at the floor to see that it wasn't Aidan, just a zombie. "I thought for a moment I had you there! Good show! So, is this how you want to play it now, Dead boy? You want to play with decomposing carcasses? You want to wrestle around a bit?" Malcolm stood there for a moment. "Answer me!"

He was then tackled by at least fifteen zombies and cadavers. Malcolm laughed out loud and began hacking into his assailants, cutting them up into miserable pieces. The zombies kept coming. Amidst the struggle, the mob was pulling the behemoth to a side of the corridor. When they had succeeded, regardless of casualties, an explosion slammed Malcolm and the zombies hard and dropping them down to the floor underneath.

Malcolm pulled himself up. "Aidan! Explosives! That's new!"

"Getting creative Colm." Malcolm looked up to see Aidan aiming a Striker shotgun at him. The weapon fired and the impact cut into Malcolm's body like a cannon, though not really hurting him all that much. Aidan then threw a Molotov cocktail at the demon and then kept firing round after round from his gun. Each shot ringing like a death wail.

Malcolm laughed after the assault. "Gungho Aidan! Watching too much TV, eh?" The demon then launched himself at the necromancer. Aidan was thrown around like a rag doll, subjected to physical punishment that would otherwise, kill a normal human being. Surprisingly, he kept going. He kept coming. And thanks to his necromancy powers and rapid healing, Aidan managed to lure Malcolm past the corridors and into another room.

"Aidan. Come out and play. I can smell your rotting corpse all over the place." Malcolm cooed malevolently. As he did so, an explosion threw the demon backwards. He stood up laughing. "Oh for God's sake. Explosives are getting really old really fast."

"How could you turn against the council!" Aidan demanded.

"How can I now? Let me clear it all up for you." Malcolm stood to his full height, dwarfing Aidan considerably, "the council is dying."

"The council is not dying."

"The council has been dying since the bitch, Summers unleashed the Scythe's powers. You have no inkling as to what has been unleashed."

"I don't but your actions are still not justified."

"Ahhh. Look at you disbelieving. I assure you laddie. It is possible, and even now, one of its minions is fighting the Kluthu god. You're too late. We've covered everything. One way or another, the First will manifest itself into this reality."

The First, as Glessing, appeared behind Malcolm. "Imagine! Me! A real boy!" The two laughed.

"Better to rule in hell than… well, you know the rest," Malcolm added.

As they laughed, zombies punched through the walls and tackled Malcolm.

* * *

Lawin smashed into a wall and was about to be burned by a fireball when he ducked just in the nick of time. He rolled past his cover, leapt sideward and threw bolts of energy in Anash's direction. The blasts didn't even make a scratch.

"Shit," Lawin muttered as he scrambled for cover. "You killed Hyall!" Lawin yelled, trying to distract her as he planned his next move.

"The bitch tried to stop me." Anash snarled.

"It was you she was trying to point out! You were the traitor!"

"Rukash, Me, Amazarak, Urkonn, the Shadow men who created the slayer line! We're all in the same line of work Lawin. You just never understood _how_ it all works!" Ana rampaged past a dozen columns, playing a cat and mouse game with the Scion. "When she died… Well, I wrote that symbol on her palm because I knew you'd find it. I thought it best to use you against Rukash and his lackeys while I try to escape from them. I'm sorry." Ana smashed a nearby column only to find a fleeing Lawin.

"What Rukash and his friends did was evil, aligning themselves with the Horde. But what you are doing is just as bad, maybe worse."

"Worse." Ana threw bolts of energy at the columns where Lawin took cover. "Worse. This day is damned! You think your friend Connor can stop the Kluthu? You think he can stop what is to come next? No Lawin, it is already over and it is all because he was born." Ana flew up several feet into the air. Lawin was crouched on the ground he was bleeding and bruised from Anash's attacks. "At least this way," Anash gestured at Vorathon's heart. "We will deny the demons an unnecessary victory. At least, humanity will have a better chance at survival."

"You're insane."

"No, Lawin. I simply know when it is time to give up pretensions of hope." And the slaughter continued.

* * *

"Aidan? You want to know why the First wants to come here so badly?"

Aidan ran across the entire manor, backtracking to where Malcolm originally planned to create his new hellmouth, the main hall. At the center of the manor, the massive crystal that would soon release a plague more terrible than anything, not to mention corrupt the whole slayer line into a race of terrifying demons.

Aidan was stymied; the demonic voice behind him grew stronger and stronger and he still had no idea as to how he could destroy the crystal. His time was wearing thin.

"Come on, Aidan, as a watcher you surely want to know." Malcolm was yapping while he ran. "Have you asked your little friend why the first wants to come here?"

Aidan kept running but he could hear the evil voice growing ominously closer. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Who did _they_ send Aidan? Who did the powers send to play commando? Whistler? Kael? Maximus? Malachi? No matter, they can only plot and lie so much before they realize that they are fooling no one."

"How did you know about Malachi."

"Ah so it's Mal. I wouldn't have guessed it. Well, it's not important anymore."

Aidan finally managed to reach his destination. Now, he could only hope that his half-assed plan would work. Oh Please, Oh Please, Oh Please.

"Well, let me spit it out for you. My… boss wants to come here to get rid of a few anomalies. Honest Aidan, it really wants to help… It really wants to set things straight. Just like the powers. The Kluthu, the Horde… It's all because people here have been screwing things up repeatedly, the council included." Malcolm stepped into the main wing, laughing, burning debris everywhere. "You know Connor right?"

"I know what you think he is." Aidan said from one of the pavilions overlooking the entire chamber.

"Oh, there you are." Then he looked his former friend over. "Did that _guy _tell you?"

"Yes. He also told me about the ancients, about the Slayer line, the Scion and a lot of other things I wish I never knew…"

"Good, then you know that what I'm trying to do is not really evil… well it is, but just look at it on a different perspective… You know what I mean."

"Death and destruction? Corruption? Demonic armies destroying this entire Universe? Kinda hard to be liberal in interpretation."

"Now when you put it that way…" Malcolm took off like a bullet straight at Aidan but the necromancer was ready and he unleashed all his reserves and summoned every dead bringer, zombie guardian and Turok Han rushing into Malcolm, tackling him down and into the floor of the main hall. There, the animated cadavers piled on top of each other, raking and tackling Malcolm down with fangs and claws. But the demon was stronger and the pile of undead flew off into several directions like a shower of bodies. The creatures recovered themselves and ran back against Malcolm but he just raked at them carelessly, all the while trying to hunt down the puppeteer, Aidan.

"Aidan!" Malcolm yelled in rage. "Come here an' die like a man!"

The deluge of undead monstrosities continued unabated. Malcolm looked like he was waltzing with a swarm of fleshly abominations. The demon lashed out left and right, hacking his way out of the frenzy. Malcolm planned to rip apart every flesh that would defy his power until he would find the necromancer. It doesn't matter how hard Aidan fought, time and power was on Malcolm's side. Ultimately, he would win.

A shot was fired and it only made a thud on Malcolm's hardened exterior. The demon smiled and looked for Aidan in the sea of bodies. Upon finding his quarry at the far end of the hall, leading to the gardens, Malcolm hacked and slashed his way towards his target. Turok Han and zombies flew around like rag dolls. This caused Malcolm to have a hard time focusing on his target. At the moment, Malcolm Ingram, was having trouble focusing his sight and hearing because of the mob of zombies and their endless clamor of groans. The insane setting spurred Malcolm into a blood lust that resulted in heightened slaughter.

"I'll get you Aidan! I'll have that bloody arrogant face of yours on my wall!"

"Piss off 'Colm."

Malcolm threw his body like a massive hammer against his intended prey. The First appeared in the form Glessing and began shouting at Malcolm.

"What! I can't hear you!" The non-corporeal entity continued to shout to no avail. But it didn't matter, for Malcolm had found his prey and nothing would stop him now! Aidan Traverse stood calmly to one side, ready to accept the killing blow. Malcolm plunged one of his energy-nails into Aidan's gut, impaling him a second time in the stomach. At that instant all the zombies and Turok Han and undead Bringers fell to the ground dead or dusted, their puppeteer impaled, leaving an eerie quiet at the two remaining combatants.

"Finally got you Aidan. Now to cut off you're little…" Malcolm was distracted by something he had missed a second ago. No. No. No. No. "No!" He screamed.

"Yes," Aidan rasped with blood seeping from out of his mouth. "I had my friends move the blasted thing." Aidan gestured to the place where the crystal originally was – it was empty now.

At a certain angle, it became clear what Aidan's plan was. He had moved the crystal to where he was now. Once there, He would use the zombies as distraction and himself as bait for Malcolm to (hopefully) destroy (with his new claws) the First Evil's crystal – a trap. It worked and Malcolm's powerful demonic nails were apparently powerful enough to destroy the crystal where explosives and high-powered tools failed. His bet paid off. He was victorious.

"Malcolm you moron!" The first yelled in rage." Now, everything's fucked up!" The entity dissipated in a cloud of smoke.

As the first disappeared, Malcolm screamed in agony as the power that was given to him was taken away… along with interest. He began to shake in every part of his body and his skin and carapace began to peel away.

Behind Aidan, the crystal cracked in half and exploded into a cloud of swirling lights. Malcolm was barely standing. He was still in demonic form but slowly becoming distorted and dying. Aidan pushed his former friend away and then taking hold of Malcolm's left hand protruding through his stomach, inched the nails out of his body. The two were freed from each other when Aidan kicked Malcolm away, leaving the two writhing with pain on the ground. Aidan's wounds were already healing rapidly. Malcolm looked like he was in excruciating pain.

Five minutes passed and it was over. Malcolm was dead, his body rotting with the demonic carapace still attached. He had failed. Aidan was still alive, barely, but still alive.

As for Aidan, the necromancer stood up shakily, one hand holding a gun while the other was trying to keep the blood from spilling out from the wound that was still not completely healed. He was covered in blood as he staggered back to his Slayer, agony seemingly in every part of his mind. He popped a painkiller into his mouth and started his trek back to his Slayer.

* * *

The transformation had caused Connor's powers to reach critical proportions. The creature that had the defeated the demon was manifesting itself in full force. Connor Reilly, Steven Holtz and Connor Angel had ceased to exist at that moment. Only the Destroyer – the true Destroyer remained.

Connor had flung the tattered remains of his coat away. He stood before the massive Wolf, Ram and Hart like an ancient Greek warrior – half naked, and animalistic in his desperation and fatigue. Cuts and bruises abounded on his body, and the smell of drying blood surrounded him. He could feel blood on his mouth. Perhaps there may even be some internal injuries. His left leg was aching as if it had been smashed by a hammer and his eyesight kept whirling around. Despite these injuries however, Connor felt the power within himself. It enjoyed the pain and suffering. It was delicious and it was driving him forward to the kill.

Eyes blazing and body brimming with a newfound power, Connor raised his sword in preparation for battle, crouched his body low into a fighting position and flung himself headlong against the rampaging Wolf, Ram and Hart demon.

Connor leapt against the raging behemoth, dark energy flaring and deadly red lightning spiking everywhere. He struck the serpentine blade against the demon's rough hide exterior, crushing it deep into its insides. The demon yelled in rage and lashed out with claws and fangs, raking Connor's own skin.

Connor landed several yards from the demon but he quickly picked himself up and threw himself once more against the demon desperately ignoring the massive cuts all over his shoulders and arms. His next attack consisted of dark, red energy spiking from his hands and preceded the coming melee fight. The Wolf, Ram, Hart demon screamed in rage when the energy hit it but it took a swipe at Connor with no visible sign of weakening. Connor dodged the attack, rolled past the demon and positioned himself into a defensive stance. His attacks inflicted a lot of damage on a creature that is not supposed to get damaged, and he was not going to let up now.

With a change in strategy, Connor circled his opponent, trying to find weaknesses in the demon's armor. There was none visibly apparent so Connor did the next best thing, he made raiding attacks until he could find one. What occurred next was a fatal symphony of demonic energy that echoed like a violent ballet.

"This is where the real fun starts."

* * *

Lawin's battle with his former mentor was not going so well, but he had something which Anash did not – complete ruthlessness.

Anash slashed with her inhuman appendages, nearly cutting him in half. Her own wounds were slowing her down, but not enough. Early into the fight Lawin noticed a large gaping wound where her waist used to be. This was slowing her down, and he knew that if he could damage it severely, it would kill her.

Early into the fight, a few bolts of fire didn't work. No wonder. Anash was after all centuries old and her knowledge of arcane magics was beyond that of his own. She easily deflected any spells that he threw at her, and given the fact that her demonic transformation has given her unnatural physical strength, Lawin had only one weapon left to use – treachery – and it was a weapon he knew how to use well.

"You cannot defeat me," Anash said in a low, throaty demonic voice, waiting for him to make another attack.

"I'd like to challenge that," Lawin said panting. He moved quickly to one of the pillars, dodging Anash's appendages as he did. He jumped from one cover to another, running about the sanctum, trying to confuse his enemy. As he did this, he conjured up several illusions of himself as distractions.

"This isn't going to work, boy!" Anash snarled as she attacked the false images. "Just give up and let me do my work!"

Lawin did not respond, rather he focused every last bit of energy he had left into one desperate attack. He took out a small plastic explosive from his back pocket. Aidan gave it to him. He didn't want to take it, but now, he was glad he did.

_You're taking a big risk with this plan of yours. _The ancestor within him spoke at last.

"You have a better idea?" Lawin asked. He looked past his cover at the rampaging monster. It was now or never.

Lawin cast a large smoke spell and unleashed several streams of flame to cover his advance. Every last bit of power he had left was put into making sure that his enemy will not know where his attack will come from.

Confused, Anash lashed out with her claw-like appendages, raking smoke and flame, but also waiting for Lawin's attack. She guessed that it would probably be a blast of energy aimed at her wound. It made sense enough. She positioned her claws to cover her wound and placed several mystical barriers there against any energy-based spells.

Lawin did attack, and he did aim for her wound, except there was no blast of energy, only a rather loud blast. After a blink of an eye, Anash stared at the ruined stumps where her claws ought to be.

As the shock of the explosion disoriented her, Lawin moved in and drove a small blade deep into her wound, plunging it deep into her gut, and then with a twist of his wrists broke off the handle.

The blow was fatal and Anash's final act was to strike away Lawin by the sheer mass of her body. Writhing in agony, her body thrashed around, her inhuman voice muttering curses in tongues long forgotten. Lawin watched his former mentor's death throes, until finally it ceased and the creature that had once been Anash was dead. The place was littered with the ruins of the battle.

Lawin approached the corpse and tore out the still-beating heart of Vorathon, the abominable artifact that Anash had planned to use carry out her insane plan. He took the bleeding organ and approached the altar and its energy core. There, he carefully laid down the lump of flesh and began the enchantments that would dissipate the energy bomb.

It took him some time to create the necessary enchantments and more to stabilize the already expanding flow of energy. "No," he muttered. The heart had stopped the core of the energy bomb but it was already too late. Too much energy has been unleashed. It would do what it was originally intended to do – cleanse the world of demonic infection… "NO!" Lawin smashed his fist unto the altar. "No! NO! NO!"

His surge of anger was cut short when a tremendous amount of pain shot up from the bottom of his spine and into the back of his brain. "Arrrgggh!" He staggered from the altar and fell to his knees. After a few mouthful of breaths, Lawin sat with his back to altar. He had struck had used too much of the Scion's powers.

_It was a good try Lawin. No one could have done better._

"It wasn't enough."

_It was not a choice you could have made. No one could have asked for more._

"It wasn't enough."

"It wasn't enough." The voice prompted a shocked response from Lawin. It was Rukash's. The ancient was greatly bloodied but he was still as imposing as ever. "You've made a mess, boy!"

Lawin gaped at Rukash and then laughed hysterically as he slumped down on the floor, from the searing pain he just had in his head. He kept laughing even as he spoke.

"You!" Lawin snarled.

"I cannot die so easily, Lawin."

"Have you come to kill me?"

"No." Rukash looked battered and defeated but the ancient still seemed to hold a tremendous amount power within him. He walked up towards the altar and stared at the demonic heart intently. "And before you ask, Vrill and Boluz told me where you and Anash were…" He held up a hand to silence his questions. "I made… a deal with them. What that is, you will have to ask them yourself. As of now, all you need to know is that my end of the bargain is to come here and stop Anash's plans."

"I wasn't the one who helped a large demonic snake bring an entire army of demons into this world!"

Rukash remained silent and looked at Anash's fallen corpse. "I won't deny that I had many plans and many plots, but now, no longer…"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to assess your situation properly." Rukash pointed at the heart.

Lawin coughed slightly, understanding what Rukash was implying. "It doesn't work. We're all dead." Lawin coughed some more and shook his head a bit to relieve the migraine.

"The heart does not require a spell, Lawin." Rukash picked up the bloody lump of flesh and then it began to make a beating sound. Lawin gaped at Rukash like a child who saw a magician. "In order to reverse Anash's spell, this organ simply requires a new host." At first, Lawin didn't understand. And his eyes grew large in comprehension. Rukash approached Lawin with the, now, beating heart. He was going to become its new host. Rukash was going to use him as the new host.

"Oh! Don't worry about your wretched skin, son of Amazarak! This is my sacrifice! Not yours." Rukash jabbed an accusing finger at him and then plunged Vorathon's beating heart into his own chest. Instantly, the flesh around the bleeding appendage began to absorb it, sucking it inside. When it was done Rukash turned his back and walked towards the altar. There was no turning back. Rukash, the ancient, was doomed to die.

At first Lawin was speechless, but when he found his voice, he could only ask: " Why?" Lawin got up and grabbed Rukash's sleeve. The ancient one gave him a demeaning glare but Lawin felt only surprise. "Why?"

"Why! Why! I thought you'd have figured out by now, you foolish boy! Why! Because we all believe in safeguarding humanity's survival, boy. Senaya, the slayer line that we forged with our powers, Amazarak thousands of years ago, you, me, Anash. That is what we – ancients were meant to do. And even now in the long overdue twilight of our age, that is still what we wish to do,"

Rukash pointed at Anash's corpse and then jumped down from the altar and walked towards the center. "Hard choices Lawin. Because of the hard choices that we must make: Hard choices that make us hate ourselves! Hard Choices that align you with your fiercest enemies! Hard choices that make you kill innocent people to save those that could be saved! We made those choices because we believed in what we did!" Rukash glared menacingly at Lawin. "What do you believe in Zarakite? Controlling the Scion line? Saving yourself from the destinies of your fathers? There are greater things than you boy! Greater things than you and me!" Rukash pointed at the altar with a ramrod finger. "Things that you must face and accept!"

Lawin was touched by the awkward compliment but was too beat up to make any gesture other than a simple nod of the head.

Rukash imperiously turned his back on Lawin and walked back up the altar. "For what it's worth, boy, you are still a champion of humanity. Craven or Soldier. You… have done what you thought to be right. And perhaps that is why I am here and you are you."

_Old Fool!_ Lawin's ancestor spoke to him.

Rukash stared at the ceiling of the temple. "Hurry, boy! There is still much work to be done. You must leave this place and continue your work."

"Wait. What are have you planned with Vrill and Boluz? What kind of deal did you make!" Lawin demanded.

Rukash held up his hand. "All explanations in due time." The altar shook as if on a seizure. Rukash clutched his chest and winced from the pain there. "Get moving. There is little time left to you… to us all."

Lawin obeyed. He got up, stole a glance at the ancient, who nodded his approval, and ran for the exit. As he ran he heard Rukash shout: "I did it because I believed in hope… even from a traitorous scum like you!"

"Asshole."

Rukash laughed.

* * *

Anash's chamber shook as Rukash efforts to reverse a very powerful spell, collapsed the entire sanctum. When he was almost to the entrance, Lawin fell down and collapsed. His fight with Anash had sapped his powers and he needed rest. Just as falling rocks were about to crush him, a familiar face came to his rescue.

_Oh shit._

"Oh shit," Lawin rasped.

Urkonn stood over Lawin. The orange demon had a menacing glare on his face.

"Why are you here?" Lawin snickered a bit. "You might want to hurry though, otherwise the falling chunks of rocks will bury me alive and beat you to it."

"You've always been obscene, boy." Urkonn observed as he crouched low and scooped up Lawin onto a massive shoulder. "Hold on. This will be a little… bumpy." Lawin and the Scion snickered at the choice of words.

Urkonn leaped to a nearby column and into another until they were clear of the devastation of the Temple. When they were safely outside, on the surface, the ancient structure was swallowed up underneath, Urkonn laid Lawin down against a gnarled looking tree.

"Why did you save me?" Lawin rasped.

Urkonn ignored him and looked over his wounds. They were not as serious as he first thought. "Can you get up?" The demon asked.

Lawin stood up. "You didn't answer me. Why did you save my ass back there?"

Urkonn eyed him condescendingly. "Because that was Rukash's final instructions to me. At least, one of them anyway." The Scion thought he was joking so Urkonn told him about the First and the deeper well, about Marastoth and what was already happening. "Distasteful as this may be, you are now one of this world's champions, perhaps even this universe's. Vrill, Boluz and Rukash have failed. Anash is dead. We are scattered, disorganized." Urkonn laughed with irony. "And it turns out that you were right and we were wrong… So you are now a champion… I hope you're happy with it. If we survive this," Urkonn began to leave, "seek me out. I will tell you of what our new world will be like."

* * *

Aidan staggered and crawled back down to the outside to the manor garden where Ashley Townes was. The two perforations on his gut as well as several bullet wounds were already almost healed. His shirt and dark pants were covered with blotches of red. The Slayer was sprawled on the ground, barely breathing. The pain was still there but he had learned to block out most of it. Should the haziness and stress wear off, he knew that it would be unbearable.

The first appeared beside them in the form of Malcolm Ingram. "Nothing too serious I hope, mate."

Aidan refused to take his eyes away from the broken body of his Slayer. "We'll keep fighting you," he rasped unevenly.

The first laughed out loud. "Silly boy! The real war is about to begin now that _the choice _has been made. The die has already been cast. This battle doesn't amount to a sack o' shit. In the end, the Destroyer will not change anything. We all just keep going… Living, dying, and suffering each day… Like you, Like your slayer, like every stupid fuck that has ever been. And I am not beaten yet! I will never be beaten!" It disappeared in a flash of light… laughing and a bit uncertain in its madness.

Aidan ignored the High demon. The thing was just part another part of the nightmare he was in. Bigger, Graver things were at stake - like Ashley dying.

"Aidan?" Ashley's eyes fluttered open.

"Yes. I'm here."

Ashley looked her watcher over. "You look like hell."

Aidan chuckled a bit at the non sequitor pronouncement. "Well, I heard bloody pulp makes me look attractive." He smiled and then added, "I won't let anything happen to you." He then carried her back to the car, a terrible ordeal considering his own wounds.

"I'm going to die," Ashley said firmly.

"No you won't."

"I'm just one slayer out of thousands."

"You're not just…"

"Shhh…" She silenced him, with an urgent look in her eye. "I have a confession to make. Dawn Summers sent me here to help you. We had a long talk… a very long talk, but she made a very convincing case…"

"What did she say to you…"

"Please! Aidan! I don't have much time." Aidan reached the car and Ashley pushed herself away from him. "Dawn sent me here to give you this." She reached into her jacket and gave him a glowing orb – an orlon window.

"It's supposed to be some kind of magical thing-y. It has something to do with fake memories. You need to give this to 'the Destroyer'" she said the name as if she memorized it.

Aidan couldn't speak. He took the orb and stuffed it into his coat. So many questions were running through his mind but he could not speak them. He looked at Ashley. Somehow, his mind had frozen and he knew that even if he dialed 911, it was already too late for her.

"How's your wounds?" Ashley whispered in her dying breath.

"It's not that bad." Aidan answered and then she stopped breathing.

The rain poured down like a flood.

* * *

After his mission, Aidan seemed like he was in a fugue. He acted almost mechanically. His mind shut off and his body taking a mind of its own as he drove the car to the deeper well.

As he drove through the chaos of LA, his mind wandered in new directions, searching out bits and pieces of memories to cope with the nightmare that was happening to him now. The soccer ball bounced several steps across from where Aidan was standing. The ground was wet and full of mud and the rain poured down like a vile blanket.

"Got yourself in a bit of a trouble there, boy." Aidan turned to see his grandfather walking up to him, wearing tweed and smoking a pipe, condescending. "Why did you save the girl?"

"Because… I chose to…" Aidan muttered.

"Bad reason. You're a watcher. Watchers shouldn't be attached to their wards. It clouds their judgment. I do believe I used to tell you that."

Aidan didn't respond. He just stared blankly at the soccer ball that he had played with ever since he got _well._ He was like that ball now, kicked around between life and death. He wanted to find comfort from something… anything, but all he got was cold dissertations. His grandfather had always been cold and analytical; admonishing him that attachments will only led to pain and misery. The old man wasn't wrong about that but Aidan didn't care, the pain and misery was an acceptable exchange.

"You're dying, Aidan. I hope the reason for it was enough." Quentin Traverse walked away from wet football field, his steps making a sloshing sound as Aidan continued to stare aimlessly at the broken pieces of his sanity. He was back in that _place _again, that place where they send you to die. His head was bald again and he, like those around him were dying of incurable cancers.

"Hello Aidan!" Malcolm said joyously. "How's my favorite necromancer?"

"Dying," Aidan muttered.

"Well, it ain't so bad. You beat me... and gave the First a good run for its money. Good job and kudos all around."

Aidan picked himself up and took away all the dextrose from his body. He hobbled away from the room and into the doorway.

"Don't forget these." Malcolm handed him a handgun.

Aidan stared at it for a moment and then tucked it into his pants, just above the waist.

"Don't forget tea later. Ta."

"I recycle." Aidan said as the room dissipated into nothing. The darkness cleared and he woke up into another nightmare, even as he drove the car with clear awareness. Aidan lay bleeding on the concrete, raindrops falling on him like little needles. He rolled to one side then to another until he could get up and force himself to crawl to his feet. Next to him, a building with noises inside called out his name.

"Aidan!" It was a faint echo. "Aidan! Glessing wants to see you." A watcher walked up to him and gently tapped his shoulder, as he got up. "I hope you have a strong gut, mate 'cause this one's a woozy." Aidan followed the direction the watcher was pointing and ended up in a small room with a body in the middle of its floor.

"Aidan. Over here!" Glessing was standing over the cadaver. "This one's for you and Ashley. Looks like a Boretz demon did this. Bloody messy too." Glessing took off the white sheet the covered the corpse to reveal Quentin Travers underneath, very much dead. "Take care of this one fast, Traverse. You may not have much time left." Glessing pointed to the chest wound. "You better figure it out fast."

The dream faded and Aidan was back inside a stolen car, driving across chaotic streets, his hands acting of their own volition on the steering wheel. Aidan's vision blurred and he suddenly found Whistler waving at him. He knew who he was. The car screeched to a screeching halt.

"Mr. Traverse," Whistler greeted him as he parked the car . "I'm Whistler." He

"So, you're the whistler? Funny, thought you'd be taller somehow."

Whistler looked at the person in front of him and stretched himself. "Suicide is a funny thing. It's not so much as wanting to die as it is not caring to live."

"Save your advice for somebody who needs it."

"All for the better then. I'm not really into all the wise old guide thing. Tried that once with a vampire didn't suit me too well. Sit down," Whistler gestured to a nearby bench.

Aidan obeyed. He was too weak to protest.

"It isn't over," Whistler said, not looking at his companion.

"Is it ever?" Aidan rasped.

"For the immediate problems plaguing us, it could be." Whistler approached Aidan closer and his right hand glowed brightly. "An old question. Live or Die."

Aidan sighed. It was either the morphine was too strong or his head was playing tricks on him ceaselessly.

"I assure you Aidan," Whistler said, not bothering to plead with the watcher not to walk away. "You're not dreaming this."

"Oh?"

"No."

"Very well. Why are you helping me?"

"Why? Because someone who's cleaning up someone else's mess." Whistler sat down on a nearby chair. "Even though the ungrateful jerk won't thank me later. Now listen to me carefully. A big fight is going to happen sometime in the next…" Whistler looked at his watch and became concerned. "Hour and a half. You know that already. The crystal the first was trying to use will be needed in that fight you need to give Connor the little present your slayer gave you."

"Was that your plot?"

"I was part of the plot, yes, but she was never meant to die if that's what your insinuating."

Aidan's face visibly contorted into anger but he did nothing. "Do you really think I'm a stupid git? I know you're the first."

"I'm not the first," Whistler walked over to Aidan and poked Aidan's body – to show that he was very corporeal, "and I'm not your enemy. If I were, you'd be dead. That alone should tell you that I'm on your side."

"So was Malcolm before he stabbed my sodding back."

Whistler sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay. How's this? I work for Connor. Will that get you to believe me?" Aidan was still unconvinced and he began to walk away. "I wouldn't have sought you out if it wasn't of utmost importance! Please! You have to listen to me. I found you the same way your slayer did, because Dawn told me where to find you… and because it's part of the plan."

"Go on." Aidan said, stopping just short of entering his car.

"Malachi and the Powers… They have plans. They want to control Connor, control everything that's going to happen after this mess. Connor can stop them but he needs your help."

"How?" The single word was both a challenge and a question.

"Ashley gave you the Orlon Window." Whistler said then whispered instructions into Aidan's ear.

* * *

Blood flowed. No color or taste or smell, but it flowed out like a deluge. The sky became a distant blur and the adrenaline blocked out all sensation. The flash of a blade, the litany of the abyss, a living weapon, the cage-skin of a demon made into a weapon. A demon – a Wolf, Ram and Hart. A vampire, the soul beating, made into a pawn by forces and powers beyond the comprehension of mortal men.

The Destroyer – erupting, killing, crushing, renewing, redemptive, destroying, slaughtering, saving, maiming, healing – a being unexpected and unpredicted, yet here like a sudden flash from the mediocrity of causality.

I am the Destroyer. Connor felt this rather than thought this as he fought the demonic manifestation of the Senior Partners… And, in his complete transformation, he was winning. When the blur had been over, he stood victorious over this enemy.

The battle had been a blur but somehow Connor had been able to injure the behemoth, the Wolf, Ram and Hart. It bled, and the smell of its blood renewed his bloodlust. Although he himself injured numerous times (he could feel a broken rib or two) somehow, Connor had crippled the creature, somehow he was able to hurt it.

A primal demon. Angel had tried to hurt the Wolf, Ram and Hart many times, and where he failed, Connor had somehow succeeded.

The creature was down. All that was left for him to do was to deliver the finishing blow. It was eerily simple plunging the blade into each of the creature's three heads. Its body trembled and then became still.

It was over.

Connor had killed the Wolf, Ram and Hart. With his blade still slick with the creature's blood, Connor walked cut off the heads for good measure. Everything was silent now, but for his breathing and Angel's twitching motions on the grass. His father, who he barely knew, was still alive. That, at least, was cause for pause and ease of mind.

Now, all that's left is to go ho…

As if on cue, a portal immediately opened close by. Connor knew that it lead back to LA. Malachi probably opened it. Maybe the powers. Maybe someone or something else.

At this point, it didn't matter. He went to Angel's unconscious form, hefted him on his back and headed straight for the portal.

* * *

Marastoth had been stymied by the unexpected new power in the doppelganger. The First Evil had clearly infused the creature with enormous amounts of power. And although the Kluthu god also had great power, Marastoth had fought his enemy into a stalemate but not a victory.

"What's wrong? Not used to someone give you a decent fight?" The Angelus clone taunted after a tied skirmish – the fifth one in their ongoing battle.

Marastoth gave him a slight smile. "Your power does not matter, bucko. Even as we speak, Connor's transformation is almost complete, and when it does… all will… _ascend_." The last word sounded like it was spoken by a religious fanatic.

_This battle is a nuisance! _The First proclaimed within Angelus' mind. _Finish this immediately and ready yourself. The Destroyer has already won against the Wolf, Ram and Hart, and will be returning here to stop that. _

Angelus gaze was directed at the swirling mass of energy at the center of the deeper well's central cavern, a mass of energy that is devouring the life force of every demon god sealed within the well to create a being never seen before.

Marastoth sensed the Doppelganger's thoughts and said, "magnificent isn't it? The creature you see before you will be the first test of the Destroyer's powers, something you could barely understand."

Angelus didn't make a sound. Within a heartbeat, he focused whatever power was given to him by the First and attacked Marastoth with more power than either of them could expect, crushing the Kluthu god and reducing him into a wounded wreck.

Marastoth couldn't believe what had happened to him. He was beaten. He had not anticipated this. He felt a rough hand pick up his body and with a single move plunged it into the air. It all happened in a blur and when it was over, Marastoth felt his body being devoured by an unnatural power, and immediately he knew that he was being devoured by the unborn chrysalis that was his own creation.

Angelus raised its head to look into Marastoth's eyes and gloat at him. "Looks like this is where we part. How does it feel to know that you were destroyed by something you created?"

As Marastoth's energies were devoured, he thought to say something witty or perhaps something along the lines of how the Destroyer cannot be defeated, no matter how messed up things have become. Sadly, the only thing that Marastoth could think about was that he would miss the latest episode of Desperate Housewives.

And in his last breath, Marastoth was devoured laughing.


	10. Chapter 9

Author's Note: This is the Second to the last chapter. The final chapter for this fanfic series will be next week. Thanks for reading everybody. Hope you liked it.

* * *

Chapter 9: **The Destroyer Ascendant

* * *

**

Twenty Eight Entry

It was, most likely, three days ago since our last preparations and now the war continues.

The Kluthu'kar and the barbaric demons are slaughtering themselves senselessly even as I write these words down. Steven and I are finally free and yet we are not. I have not forgotten the words of the high priest of the Kluthu'kar: Complete the circle!

Those words are still ringing in my ears. What this could mean for Steven, I do not know. But even as I think of these words I keep having the most uneasy sensations, as there is something concealed that is immensely beyond my comprehension. I try to remove such thoughts from my mind. Instead, I think of strategy to our present predicaments.

The portal is now completely ready. We had sent a number of lesser demons through it as a test, tiny slug like creatures that drain moisture from the body, and the damned portal did not collapse. This was good but for one more complication: Each time something crosses the portal enters a cool down period occurs before it could be functional again, which means that only one may cross at a time. It was already thought best that Steven enter first – it was certainly the most intelligent choice, given his powers and comprehension of such things as dimensions.

Everything is going according to plan. The spell to bind Steven's powers is already being prepared. I have taken care of our one-time ally, the sorcerer/apprentice – He is gone and quiet. Once this spell is done to free Steven of his corruption (regardless if it works or not) we shall enter the portal to home. It is there that we shall plan the next step of my son's life.

As for me, I already know my fate…

We must hurry though it will only be a matter of time now before the Nog Hototh discover that we have used them. And once they do, we must be far and away from this hell world forever more.

The battle continues out on the plains of this large warrior city. Steven is at this moment preparing the spell as instructed to him by our late ally. If all goes according to schedule then we should have no problems. Steven will enter first followed by me after the portal has had its cool down. Everything is going smoothly, yes, but I can feel a sense of anxiety for young Steven. The Nog Hototh said that this spell to rid Steven of his corruption, has side effects that cause memory loss and mental instability. If so, then our plan is hinging on very thin vicissitudes! Oh God! Help us in our time of peril!

* * *

_You can't be saved by a lie. You can't be saved at all. _

_ That statement would've been true if the Universe were a simple place, but it isn't. There are truths within lies and lies within truths. I guess if you know where to look you can find anything you want. _

_God! How'd I get here? It used to be so goddam simple. _

_You wake up to the noise of a scream, then a whisper… You can't tell the difference between reality and dreamland. You try to focus your senses but they refuse. The world turns one way and your head turns the other. The depth of the pain… you can't imagine. It's there, waiting for you to falter and fall. _

_Taking over…_

_It's taking over…_

_Help me…_

_Connor!_

_Steven!_

_Nebadon – The Destroyer!_

_You can't escape what you are. Figure it out… or die! _

_I remember the song of a distant memory, whispers that my heart sees clearly and my mind does not understand. I don't know if this is love or a hope for past innocence to return, but it was alive. It was there. Ignored for so long because it was too precious for a dark world within a darker world. _

_I reach out my hand for help but there is only abyss in the distance. I'm afraid. In the distance, I could see bound figures, weeping dying, scourged from pain. _

_Bright lights. _

"Connor," a distant voice whispered, "look at me."

_I would not. I wish to rest, away from the abyss, away from the pain. _

"Connor, come on. You need to get up."

_A soft caress on my hair. I'm being forced to live again… and to die again, perhaps?" _

_But you are alive, and in that knowledge, you are made whole once more. _

_

* * *

_

Upon the arrival of the Angelus doppelganger, Malachi retreated as fast he can outside without looking back. Somewhere within the cavern, he could hear the whining screaming sounds of energies crackling. He did not dare look back to see what was happening. All he knew was that he was hurt and beaten. He had tried his best to stop Marastoth but he failed. As fate would have it, something else intervened on his behalf, but not in the way that he would like it.

"Shit!" Malachi swore as he stopped to catch his breath. In the distance, he could hear an explosion. Whatever the First Evil has done to the Angelus clone, it had made the creature far more deadly than what it had originally been. Malachi wasn't sure if Marastoth would win or not, but if the First Evil is involved…

"Come on Connor… Show me a miracle," Malachi said in a rasping breath. The quakes and noise continued. Hopefully, neither the humans nor the slayers will interfere, but unless Connor completes his transformation that won't matter.

Because here in the deeper well, a culling will begin, one way or another.

"Malachi," a voice called out to him from deep within his head and he knew where it came from.

_What? _Malachi asked immediately.

"The Destroyer's complete. He did it. He has completed his transformation…" And a second voice. "We need to control it."

And just like that, a burden fell from the Mentalist's shoulders.

"I know. I know. I remember the plan…"

"You better. We don't need to tell you what's at stake now that Connor's transformation is complete."

* * *

_You can only plot and outsmart the world so much_

_Before you realize that in the end,_

_When it's calling you out_

_You can face it with nothing more_

_But your heart and soul _

_

* * *

_

After his narrow escape from the sanctum, Lawin hurried to the deeper well. He didn't know what happened, but he was sure that he'll figure it all out very soon. First thing first though. He had to get to the Deeper Well, the rally point.

When he reached his destination, he was greeted by a bandaged up Malachi, who walked up to him with a grim face.

"So did you stop him?" Lawin asked.

Malachi shook his head.

"Oh. Well… uh what do we do?"

"I don't know!" Malachi snapped.

"Well, that's just great isn't it? We can't just stay here and wait for a miracle."

"As stupid as this may sound, that is the only thing we can do!"

As Malachi finished his sentence, an explosion erupted somewhere deep within the deeper well.

"What the hell's going on down there?" Lawin asked.

"I don't know, but we can't wait for Connor. We don't even know if he'll be coming back," Lawin complained.

Malachi was going to answer him but Aidan's voice beat him to it. "He's coming. Don't worry. He's coming." Aidan walked up to them.

"Traverse," Lawin sighed. "Please tell me some good news."

"Don't worry mate. I took care of Malcolm. The plague is no longer a problem." Aidan said and then added in an ambiguous tone of voice, "we still have other worries though." He turned to Malachi.

"Whistler sends his regards. Now, would you mind telling me what that's for?"

"You met Whistler?" Malachi eyed him suspiciously. Malachi touched the crystal and questions began running in his mind. "Whistler told you to give me this?"

"Right. He told me that it's part of your plan – part of the plan of the Powers That Be. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is." Malachi answered with a little hesitation but he took it away from his mind, then handed the crystal to Lawin. "Standard disruption spell. Get to it."

"What for?" Lawin asked.

"This crystal was used to create the disease carrying fog." Malachi said.

"Yeah so?"

"It's attuned to the First's energies."

An idea popped into Aidan's head, "and so we can use it to hurt the First."

Malachi didn't answer but a smile formed into his face. "Leverage," he said for both their benefits.

"Leverage for what?" Aidan asked.

"For when we fight the First Evil. But we need Connor here first. After all, it's his show."

"Bugger that. We don't need him," Aidan snapped impatiently.

"Yes, we do." Lawin answered as he began making the spell. "But we can't just stay here and do nothing."

Malachi ignored Lawin, as he tipped his head backwards and closed his eyes in a trance. He was trying to scan the skeins of fate.

"Mal?" Lawin demanded attention.

"Shut up, De la Vega." Malachi kept his eyes closed but a smile formed on his mouth. "He's coming."

"Connor?" Aidan asked.

"Yes," Malachi answered, "and this is where the fun starts."

"Mal, explain to us what's happened to Connor. And more importantly, explain to us how he's going to stop that." Lawin jabbed a finger at the deeper well which was now glowing from beyond its doors.

"Connor is the Destroyer, but before that he was only a potentiality. You all saw how messed up he was. Those were just the symptoms. He just needed one last catalyst."

"Angel…" Aidan said. "his father."

"Yes, his father," Malachi answered, "you see, Angel has a unique power to pass on his soul. It was one of the preconditions of why he was able to father Connor in the first place. Inevitably, his fate and that of Connor's fate were intertwined."

"Angel will indeed bring about the apocalypse as the Shanshu prophesied, but how it will happen depends upon Connor and his choice. What and who he becomes will decide the direction of all the prophecies which I showed you in the deeper well. "

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Exactly. That's the nature of the universe, Paradox. And Connor has unlocked it for himself."

"So…" Lawin shrugged, "we wait for him to come back and rescue our asses?"

Malachi shrugged. "He's coming. Don't worry."

"Screw that!" Aidan snapped. As if on cue a portal tore through right in front of them. From the other side Connor stepped through portal carrying the unconscious body of the demon that had once been Angelus. He gently lowered his father to the ground and directed his attention towards the greatest threat to the world at this very moment – the deeper well.

"Is that… Angel?" Malachi asked, pointed at the inert form then turned to Connor,

"Yeah." Connor answered

"Connor?" Lawin asked as they stared at the massive demon that was slowly emerging from the well. "What happened to you? You look like you had a disagreement with a mack truck."

"I had a disagreement with a demon god. Where's Aidan?"

"Here." Aidan walked closer. "You wankers sure know how to mess things up, what?"

"It's the home stretch. Keep your bra on for a few more seconds until… holy crap, what happened to your…" Connor pointed at Aidan's forehead. Aidan's face was streaked with dark veins, and he looked like zombie.

"What do you… oh you mean this! Malcolm shot me in the head. It's kind of cool really, nine gunshot wounds." Aidan pointed at blotches of red all over his body, wounds now healing. "I think it's a record."

"Oh," the two boys said awkwardly, not really sure of what to say. "Are you... you know, fine?"

"Do I look fine?" Aidan raised an eyebrow. "Besides, you tussers don't look like beauty queens either."

"Big wet fight," Connor answered then turned to Lawin. "You?"

"Sorceress mutant. Long story," Lawin added.

"Sorry to interrupt girls," Malachi said, "but I thought you should know that we need to start moving out now or we'll be continuing our conversation in the next phase of existence. Reilly, this all hangs on your shoulders. If you are not what we think you are then the First may very well destroy the world."

"You don't have to remind me, Mal. Destiny, Fate, Free Will and all that Jazz." Connor said in a not quite obvious deadpan way.

"Wait," Aidan interrupted. "What the bloody hell is he talking about?"

"I can kill hell gods, apparently." Connor answered, "Malachi and the powers, if he is really working them, planned all that's happened this entire month so I could get an upgrade and kill that _thing _over there. Everything that has happened to us was so that I can become some sort of god-killing machine."

Aidan's brow furrowed but he eventually accepted this to be fact. "Right, so what do we do now?"

"What we have done since this mess started. We fight."

* * *

After Connor's arrival, Malachi went away by himself to consult his 'bosses upstairs.' They told him that slayers and their watchers were gathered near Compton and more were coming. The First made it a priority to send his army of Uber Vamps to distract them. As for Marastoth, Malachi was informed of his demise and of the new threat which now loomed before them. So it's just them and their enemy.

Malachi returned to them from the shadows arrogantly. "The people from upstairs just called and gave me the news." He looked at Connor gravely. "Marastoth's gone."

"Gone? How?" Connor asked, surprised.

"Apparently, it was the First Evil," Malachi answered.

"Is that a good news or bad?" Lawin asked.

"I'd chuck it to bad…" Aidan mentioned, looking warily at Malachi.

"Good or bad, we're going in there," Connor said, and he looked at Malachi and then pointed at the deeper well, "and fulfill your precious prophecy."

"We will," Malachi answered and looked at Lawin and Aidan, "you guys have played your part. You can walk away from this if you want." They did not respond, but they looked as if Malachi had insulted them. They left Mal and Connor to prepare themselves and their gear.

Alone at last, Malachi looked at Connor with measuring eyes. He then turned his gaze towards the deeper well. "Whatever's happening in there, it's Primal Magick," As if in special communion, Connor understood. Malachi was telling him that the energy was being drawn, was not from some mystical spell or artifact but from the life force of every hell god buried there. There was an unborn demon inside the massive concentration of dark energy.

_Primal Magicks_. Connor nodded his head. The destroyer took off his overcoat and used it to cover the dying demon on the ground. He couldn't help but think about the staggering price Angel paid to be where he was now.

When he gave - He gave everything, lost everything. Nobody asked him to, he was given the easy way out… but he never took them. That was why he was a champion. That was why he was here now - broken and dying. Angel, a brave and noble soul that had risked and given everything for what he believed in, a champion that had waged war with the darkness inside and the darkness outside. He never stopped even though he faltered. He never let up, even when he had lost all. He kept at it as long as he could keep going, until that very same belief in goodness had sucked everything out of him – all but his own will to go on fighting.

To keep on fighting the darkness, forever if necessary - That was his redemption. There were no rewards. There was no purpose. There was no meaning. A champion does what he does because that's who and what he is. No other reason. Most people never got that. Not Spike. Not Connor (until now), Not his one, true love, nobody. But it doesn't matter. Not now. He was dying. He was going to prove it to his last, dying breathe.

"Angel." Connor touched his father's distorted face as if to make sure that it was still real. His humanity wanted to cry. He had lost Laurence only a few days ago. And now he might, in all probability, lose Kit and his mother soon if he failed. Losing everything was like a pattern to him now, he mused.

But there was no time for tears or agony. Seventeen years in Quartoth has taught Connor to keep going, keep going in times of great peril, keep fighting. You can fall apart later. On your feet boy! Holtz's voice reverberated as he looked around him. Hell will always be a part of him, chase after him regardless of what he will do. And though that may be the case it has also, perhaps, unwittingly created the Destroyer.

And Connor will fight to his last dying breathe. And may heaven have mercy on those that will stand in his way.

"Thou hast become Death. Destroyer of Worlds," Malachi said on behalf of Connor's unspoken thoughts. Dramatic, but the mentalist thought it appropriate for the moment.

"From an Indian Epic," Connor responded with wry amusement. He took up his Serpentine blade and walked towards the Deeper Well, a look of dour acceptance on his face, as if he had just accepted a lasting peace from it.

* * *

They entered the deeper well as one. Inside, the inner sanctum was a wasteland, shattered and destroyed beyond repair. Every crypt of every demonic god sealed away within the well's chambers had been opened and their contents devoured into a massive twisting mass of energy, which now lay at the center of deeper well. It was there and it was alive. Bright lights and the sound of screams erupting like a musical orchestra. They were there calling out to the universe. At its center was a being – the First Evil. It had somehow merged with the Doppelganger's body and now, they were as one. The First glowered at them, even as they took defensive positions around the wreckage.

"Show yourself Connor!" the First cried out in demonic voice, and then it swallowed up all the light, diminishing himself back into an ordinary human image.

"Hey Reilly. That thing wants you," Lawin said.

"Yeah, it does." Connor answered back. He got out of his hiding place and walked out into the open.

"Reilly!" Malachi snapped at him. "Get back here." But Connor did not, and Malachi cursed under his breath. Aidan grabbed him on the arm and dragged him away before he did something he might regret.

"Well. Well. Well. Our glorious messiah ascendant, at last!" The First looked down at Connor from atop a high ledge several meters from the entrance to the well. The First leaped down to a get closer look at Connor. "I must say that you really surprised me. I expected you to arrive much later. Part of your charm, I suppose. You always were too unpredictable. Tell me, did you bang Glorificus' Key too?"

"Her name's Dawn Summers. And you know full well that we didn't do the ditty bang bang." Connor said smirking.

The First laughed a bit amused and then began to circle Connor, watching him like a predator at every tick of the latter's pulse. "Oh! Why the hell not? You two had such great chemistry… and with Cordelia out of the picture, you'll need a new love theme." The First puckered his lips in a comedic way. "I must say that you've done superbly in defeating your _demons._" The First winked at him knowingly. "As for me, killing the last of the Kluthu had been difficult, but it all worked out in the end. We are all here to resolve all of this." The First flew back to the ledge from where he jumped down and threw his hands wide as if to gesture to his audience the grand drama that is unfolding around them. "All the powers of the deeper well is within this body – within me. You cannot win."

Connor's twitched a little as the realization came to him. "Are you… Are you scared of me?"

"Scared? Me? What have I to be scared about?"

"You are. You're scared of me." A feral glint went into Connor's eyes. "Good."

The First response was to unleash a massive wave of energy at Connor, but Connor dodged it by jumping behind a shattered column and stood ready to dodge another attack.

"You're too late now you know." Angelus/First jumped down from the ledge and walked towards Connor. "My plan is already complete. Sure, there were some rough spots along the way but at least now, the final stage is set for the grand finale."

"Everything else had been diversions to keep you off balanced long enough for me to bring you here, the fulcrum of universe." The First gestured at the entire deeper well like a thespian in a theater. "Behold, the culmination of an entire cycle, eons in the making! Ain't it neat?"

"And yet here I am, along with a prophecy that says I'm going to mess everything up," Connor responded.

The First and Connor looked at each other with calm, unnerving silence. They both knew what each other could do… and how far each one is willing to take it. Beneath where they now stand was the deeper well, resting place of countless high demons, each one unimaginably powerful, each one capable of destroying this world, each one capable of unspeakable power, each one capable of plunging the universe into oblivion... And now, they were being concentrated into a single super-demon, more than a demon, more than a god; the next step in an ancient evolution.

And only a single boy to stand against it, a boy who was also the Destroyer.

"Tell me Connor," The first in his human form scratched his head shyly – still willing to keep up his human facade, "Have you figured out the entire story?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I want to know how much you really understand about the events that have lead to this singular point… And for how long." The First smiled back

"I understand…" Connor was a bit hesitant to finish, "about the cycle, and what it means."

The First laughed. He laughed and laughed and sighed deeply. "So! You saw it! Good! What you saw - that is the source. That is where I come from, where all divinity comes from. "

"What the hell are they talking about Mal?" Lawin asked Malachi in their hiding spot.

"Be quiet," Malachi snapped as he strained to listen.

"This was your game - Marastoth, Yours and Theirs." Connor pointed upwards. "It just turned out that I was better at it than you were."

"Oh, stop flattering yourself. It's rather unbecoming of your boyish innocence." The First jutted out his chin and smiled. "I can't say I'm surprised, though. You've always been a devious little bastard. Congratulations then. Very few creatures have and will ever know what it's like to be reborn into godhood. You are now a more than a god… for better or worse."

"They had always been within me – this knowledge. Even before I returned from Quortoth, even before the day that I recovered all my memories – the ones that Angel hid from me and the ones that Holtz was afraid of. I kept hesitating though. That was my problem. I did not know what I was… until now."

The First laughed some more. "And along the way, you were actually spinning plots of your own. Ha! Impressive. You always did have the gift. You will make an impressive god!"

"I never wanted to be a god."

"More than a god then. You will herald a new age, one that shall be paved by everything that you destroy!"

"I am not going to destroy anything," Connor countered.

"Oh but you will. Your existence guarantees it, and I am going to stop you!" the First said firstly.

It all came into focus. All the machinations were done. Connor now understood his enemy, understood his purpose and what opposes that purpose. It was more than knowledge. It was awareness – pure and simple. The First was afraid of him. He was a threat to the First. But more than the First – he was a threat to everything, the predator that drives all beings to think in terms of survival and with creation. Existence had become a fixed pattern and he was going to destroy that pattern.

Starting with the First Evil.

"It ends here tonight," Connor said with quiet determination.

"It will, but not in the way that you might think. Choice is Creation," the First spoke, and it was slowly transforming into something else, "Creation is Choice. We are here because we choose to be here. And in so doing, we are created."

Something – a thought – clicked inside of Connor's mind. It was something that sprang from his own soul.

_Was there a choice?_

_Was that choice real?_

_Or were they all just illusions of my fears?_

The First laughed but the voice seemed to have changed. And it was not just the voice, in a matter of seconds, its entire body was beginning to take on an unusual shape. He was becoming larger, more distorted. A fixed form was fading away, almost like it was being absorbed by the air. After three heartbeats, the First had turned into a towering twelve-foot tall blob of twisted flesh, claws and talons glowing with dark energy protruded all over the creatures surface.

"You must love getting your ass kicked," the First said in a contorted sound.

"Oh Shit!"

The First chuckled in his inhuman voice.

"Absolutely!" Connor smirked and hurled himself against the demon. The impact of their first strike shocked both combatants, disorienting them for half a second. But when the initial disorientation cleared, Connor found himself sprawled on his back with a looming First in front of him. He quickly got to his feet and raised his blade once more, energy coursing through his hands, as he feinted sideways and raised the blade for a killing blow. Hard metallic edge sliced into The First twisting fleshy form. The primal being should have been damaged but it just absorbed the attack and unleashed a massive shockwave that threw Connor off his feet and several yards away.

Connor tried to focus as soon as he recovered from the shock of the blast. One ear could hear nothing but a loud piercing sound while the other could only hear the whirling wind within the deeper well. He could feel one rib broken. He felt for his muscles and extremities. Some connective tissues were hurt. He had at least one open wound and there was searing pain from deep within his clavicle.

Connor bit his lips and stood up. He shook his head and grabbed his left arm and pulled down hard to straighten his dislocated shoulder. The crack was sickening but Connor resisted his nausea and swallowed down the vomit that was threatening to erupt from his innards. Had he'd been a normal child, he would have fainted from the blinding pain, but the brutality of Qourtoth had taught him to be ruthless and strong, and they did not fail him.

He turned, got up and slowly balanced his legs. The First was a good distance away but the ball of twisting flesh was coming right at him, lumbering and destroying every object in its way as it began to cross a thin wooden bridge connecting some of the scaffolds where Connor laid. Things were not going well. The First had grown eight feet tall and was growing larger. It shot out balls and streams of demonic energy but Connor managed to dodge each one. He leaped to another nearby wooden scaffold and took the cover of a nearby coffin and used it as a shield as he ran in a zigzag motion. When he reached a safe distance, Connor pretended that he fell down, with the coffin cover on top of him.

The First lashed at the wooden cover only to find that it held nothing behind it. The looming fleshy behemoth looked for its prey and found it in the form of a escaping figure some yards below the scaffold they just fought on. It attacked but the First was suddenly pierced from behind by long metal that was followed by a barrage of energy blasts that tore into The First's skin. The First struck back but the damage was done.

The damage was done. It was impossible to hurt a primal demon – much less the First Evil. But Connor had done it. He was able to hurt the First – the first manifestation of his true powers as the Destroyer.

Connor leapt back from his enemy, the dark looking demonic armor making him larger than he seemed. The two combatants paused for a moment to regroup, they yelled with inhuman screams at each other and they plunged into combat again.

The two demons fought each other viciously, trying to find an opening in each other's movements. The First, with his enormous size was amazingly agile and made Connor do some of the most difficult maneuvers of his life as he tried to evade the Kluthus blows across the thin pillars which supported the well.

Cornered by the demon and with very little options left, Connor jumped off the edge of the bridge and landed on top of one the coffins, the spiraling energy that was being funneled into the Chrysalis was making maneuver even harder for Connor. Each one of those streams of energy was pure demonic power and extremely lethal. Connor made a back flip to another floating coffin, used it as leverage and threw himself hard against The First, slashing and cleaving at the Kluthu but to no avail. The First grabbed Connor's neck and flung him aside like a rag doll.

Connor shook his to clear out the pain and realized that although he had been able to stand his ground, the enclosed spaces of the deeper well's cavern was not to his advantage.

"Reilly!" He heard Malachi call his name, and a rough hand helped him up. "Come on." Connor followed them out of the Deeper Well. They ran past the winding tunnels and back out onto the surface. Behind them, the First was gaining size and mass, destroying everything in its path.

"Real nice move attacking it on your own, captain courageous!" Aidan snapped at Connor.

"Shut up, watcher!" My head is ringing enough as it is.

"Stay focused, girls!" Malachi chided. After he spoke, an explosion happened behind them. It was the First tearing its way through the Well's gates, and it was still slowly growing in size.

"Aside from your little suicide attack, you were able to hurt it," Lawin said to Connor. It was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah, apparently I did," Connor answered with a smirk.

"Yes, you did. You weren't supposed to. No one is supposed to hurt the First Evil, but you did. Yes, you apparently did," Malachi repeated with a smirk of his own, " and all we have to figure out now is how to hurt it some more."

"Our specialty," Aidan spoke with a feral grin.

Malachi did not answer but he looked at Lawin, "Is our trap set?"

"You know it."

"Good." Malachi responded. "Gentlemen, let's go kick that sonovabitch's ass."

* * *

It took about five minutes for Malachi to explain the plan – five precious minutes – because now, the First had grown twice as its previous size. The massive blob of flesh and energy was now the size of a truck and still growing. The problem however is that the boys didn't like Malachi's plan very much.

Aidan was the first to voice his concerns. "Let me get this straight. Your spell will disrupt the First's energies for ten minutes – but only ten minutes. And during that time, you want us to hold off for - ten whole minutes - the combined powers of all the ancient hell-gods who commanded billions of demonic armies, who destroyed countless worlds and are every bit of capable of destroying us all and mixed with the First's powers… until Connor can get into position and kill it? That's your grand plan?" As if on cue, the dark energy nexus amassed a tremendous amount of energy and shot it at the deeper well, destroying its entrance and the large hallway casement that lead to the well's main cavern.

"Yes," Malachi said. "Pretty much."

"That's not a very good plan," Connor answered, "please tell me there's more to it than that."

"I figured we just pummel it until the time's up." Malachi answered.

Connor rolled his eyes in frustration. "Yeah. That'll work out just fine."

"You got a better one wonder boy? Let's hear it."

"No, but it's still a lousy plan."

"Bugger this!" Aidan snapped at them. "Let's just get the bugger! And be done with it!"

"No objection from me, guys. I'm tired of manipulations. It's time we hold the line and fight," Lawin said.

Malachi smiled. The bastards were finally cooperating. It took the apocalypse to do it but the most arrogant boys in the world were finally cooperating. "Okay, guys, this is it. No heroics. Keep that fucker inside the area until Connor is in position. Remember the plan." Malachi eyed Connor quickly. "If this works out, everything will turn out like a Disney movie… and we can all go home and never see each other again." They chuckled."If it doesn't, we won't be around to care. I honestly don't know what's going to happen next after this or what things will be a week from now, but I have to tell you guys that it was an honor to have blackmailed and coerced arrogant little bastards like you to safeguard the universe." The three chuckled once more. Malachi looked at the faces of the three boys that had faced down so much evil in so short a time and came out intact… more or less. "I'll see you on the other side."

"I'll see you in hell!" Aidan said without malice. Malachi responded with a colorful finger.

The dark, ominous nexus energy and flesh loomed closer. The four warriors took up defensive positions. Lightning bolts rained on the area surrounding the energy nexus as if it was a lightning rod. It was a little disheartening.

"We're screwed aren't we?" Lawin spoke to himself.

_Oh yeah!_

"We'll be fine Lawin," Connor responded, hearing the Scion with his super senses. "And we can get drunk after all this is over."

_Says the demon._

"Say, about that Dawn chick? Did you…" Friendly banter to hide the fear.

"No." Embarrassment and appreciation for friendly banter.

"Pussy." Camaraderie, despite the fear.

"Up yours Lawin!" Connor swore at him good naturedly.

"You and Dawn? Buffy'll have a fit." Aidan smirked.

"Knock out the crap and get to your positions."

The nexus loomed bigger and bigger. What's worse is that it was beginning to take an ominous shape, like a fetus forming at an accelerated pace.

"You blokes ready?" Aidan took out a Kalashnikov AK 47 from a duffel bag and aimed it at the creature. The others gave him a surprised look. "Don't ask. I won't tell."

"Deal," Connor for the benefit of the others. "Eveybody. Move out!" And they all began to take their positions in a square perimeter.

When they were ready, four tiny silhouettes stood before the rampaging monstrosity. It was Malachi who shouted to the rest of the guys, "Go!"

And the Battle began!

* * *

Amidst the battle, the crystal which Aidan brought and which was attuned to the First's own energies, came alive and unleashed a massive wave large. As the rumbling mass of Flesh entered the kill zone the trap was sprang and the creature was contained by the crystal's energies, thus securing the First within the contained area and disrupting its powers.

"Clever. Very clever but not clever enough." The First spoke in a mewling like growl. And lashed out at the surrounding areas. It thrashed and when the initial attack was over and the First had spent much of its energy trying to break through the barrier, the boys took their cue and attacked simultaneously.

The Nexus-demon was barely conscious of itself. Existence was a new, new thing for it. Most of its awareness came from the directions of the First Evil which was its heart and mind, and they moved and lived as one, but it felt pain also.

* * *

Malachi directed the attack and used psychic energy for his attack. His limited prescience was valuable in coordinating everybody and allowed them to position themselves where they could make the most good. But even with this tactical advantage, Malachi knew full well how desperate the situation was.

* * *

Lawin crouched low, took out a couple of knives, one for each hand and then intoned a spell that gave him two energy blades arching backwards from his arms. The scion ran at the target, slashing and casting spells simultaneously. The area around the nexus burned like a tinderbox. The effort in using so much magick made Lawin feel like his brain was being smashed with by a jackhammer but Lawin sucked it in and pressed his attack, madly slashing at the nexus' outer defenses.

* * *

Aidan aimed his Kalashnikov rifle and fired an entire clip empty. He knew that bullets would probably have little or no effect at the target but he was, at the moment, a mad dog that only wanted to unleash as much pain as possible. He yelled as he fired his rifle. When it was empty, Aidan took out his nine millimeter and raised the nearest corpses he could find, a few demons killed by the Marastoth or Connor earlier that evening. He and his mob of three to four ran headlong at the monstrosity, guns blazing.

* * *

Connor attacked directly. The nexus focused on him and lashed out with its energy tendrils, barely missing him. Connor's responses were a series of blows directed at the lashing tendrils. The nexus seemed to cry out with agony as the Connor's corrupting powers flowed through his blade and into contact with the nexus energy tendrils, hurting it's infant brain.

Their simultaneous attack caught the creature off guard but when the surprise of the attack had worn off, the retaliation began. Lawin was the first to fall. The strain of using too much of his powers had taken its toll on him and left him wide open to attack. He barely managed to dodge an energy spike before being hurled backwards by an explosion. A protective ward which he cast on himself was the only thing which saved him.

Aidan got it next. His left torso was nearly torn off by another explosion. The bad part was not that damage done to his body though. It was the he was still conscious. "Croist," Aidan hissed in pain as he struggled to get up and drag Lawin's unconscious form away from the battle.

Malachi stood his ground but the only thing he could manage to do was to annoy the creature. Getting out of Connor's way was the best that he could do to help.

And so it was all down to the Destroyer who was virtually having a one on one against a demon that was significantly larger than he was and infinitely more powerful. Nevertheless, Connor had managed to wound the First's new and powerful form. Not significantly but enough for it to get its attention.

In retaliation to the pain, the First Evil attacked with renewed fury. Several blasts of spiraling energy found their way into Connor's chest. Connor shook his head to keep the pain away. He looked up from the ground and saw the behemoth looming over him.

In a demonic voice, it spoke haltingly, "It's time you saw reality for what it is! Not through your eyes but through the truth that everything that has ever been is born from the abyss." Several enormous appendages – the size of large pipes reached out for Connor. Although he managed to severe several of them, they kept coming until one of them managed to strike at Connor.

The impact of the blast smashed into Connor. He fell to the ground barely breathing; distant voices and sounds could be heard even while his vision was still good, like a TV with a low volume.

"Connor!" the voices yelled.

"Connor!" Aidan called out.

"Connor!" Malachi called out.

"Get to him! I'll cover you!" Lawin yelled.

The whole instant swirled like a twisting vortex, swallowing everything into a dizzying whirlpool.

"Son! Wake up! Are you okay? Come on kiddo! Get up!" Laurence exhorted his son to regain his consciousness.

"Oh my god! Connor, are you okay what happened back there?." Colleen was near tears.

"Dad! Is he okay?" Kit cried out. "Is he okay?"

"What… What happened?" Connor began to pick himself up.

"You fainted in the middle of the street. What happened? You had us worried."

"Are you on drugs?" Kit quipped.

"Kit, be quiet! That is not funny!" Colleen turned back to his son. "Does your chest hurt? Your head?"

"What? No. Dad. What street? What are you talking about? What's going on here?"

"I think maybe we should go back inside."

"Mr. Reilly. I saw what happened. Is Connor alright?"

"He's fine Tracey. We'll just get him checked to the hospital, okay?"

"Connor!"

"Tracey?" Connor pushed himself away from the people helping him up. "What's going on here… Where's… What's going on?" Connor looked around at what happened. **It's that moment! **The realization exploded into him. The moment I was hit by the van. This is the exact moment! The moment I went back to hell. If only the moment had never happened. If only the nightmare hadn't started all over again. "The van! What happened to the van!"

"What van?" Kit asked. She saw when Connor lost consciousness in the middle of the street.

"The van that hit me!"

"Ooookay. We need to get you to brain doctor too 'cause there was no van. You swooned like a little girly princess in the middle of the road."

"Kathryn!" The younger Reilly skipped back after being scolded. "Son, there was no van. You just… feinted."

"This isn't right. I… regained my memories. I was fighting the… the Kluthu. I can't… Arrggh!" Connor got up, helped by his parents.

"Connor!"

"Trace? Is that you?"

"What happened back there?" Tracey walked beside them along with a gathering throng of neighbors.

"The… van. It hit me. It was sent by Vail. He…"

"What van?" Laurence turned to Tracey.

The girl just shook her head and said that there was no van.

"And who's Vail?" Colleen asked.

"There's… There's a mistake here." Connor shook his head as they reached the porch. "Quartoth… Angel! The Nexus… They need me there."

"Laurence! I think he's delirious. Maybe Kit was right. I'll go call the hospital." When Colleen opened the door a massive blast of demonic energy greeted all of them. The blast killed them all in a single second.

"Connor!"

"Connor!" Lawin screamed into his ears as he slowly gained consciousness. "Off your dead ass and on your dying feet, you yankee asshole!"

"What?" The plunge back to reality was disorienting. It felt like being torn apart from what you believe to be real and what you cannot believe in. The First was trying to show him something… Whatever it was though, he was glad it didn't happen.

"Is he alright?" Malachi screamed from his vantage point.

"I hate to interrupt you blokes. But am I the only one left fighting here?" Aidan yelled as he emptied another clip worthlessly.

"What happened?" Connor mumbled as he began to regain consciousness.

"That thing got you, that's what." Lawin yelled. He was bleeding from his right shoulder. They were retreating past their initial point of attack. "Mal managed to get you out though."

"Mal?" Connor called for the mentalist who was right behind them.

"Here," came Malachi's rasping voice. His face looked like a mess whatever it was he did to rescue Connor, took a lot out of him.

"What did you do?" Connor asked.

"Spent every…" came the halting reply, almost weak, "… last power I had… left. Good news though. You managed to hurt it."

"What?"

"Yeah," Aidan answered, "oh for bloody sakes. It tried to eat you, but it choked on you. Malachi took the chance to save your bloody arse."

"Huh?" Connor said smirking. "Awesome."

"Keep going." Malachi instructed them to keep retreating. Connor understood. The guy saved his life, but there would no time for thanks. They had retreated enough, Now, they have to fight once more.

Connor steadied himself back up. He felt like a wreck, mentally and physically but he stuffed it all in for later. Lawin and Malachi were already racing back to the fray and they needed him for the last critical moments.

"How much longer," Connor yelled.

"Two minutes! Maybe more! Hang in there!" The crystal was glowing green – weaker now - and everywhere they turned demonic corruption greeted them, in the trees, the ground, even the air seemed vile and hellish, turning black and red and seemingly being consumed by an ethereal slime. Everywhere they turn, they could see dim, dark figures emerging like a sea of bodies trying to give birth to itself.

"Malachi!" Aidan yelled. "What the bloody hell are those things!"

Malachi turned his attention to where Aidan was yelling. "Oh God!"

"Mal?" Lawin asked. "What the fuck is going on here? Mal!"

"Scatter," the mentalist yelled.

The four boys barely had time to escape when figures in the darkness hardened and erupted into a swarm of demonic hosts. The boys struck back with a savage rage. Those that Lawin, Malachi and Connor killed were manipulated into zombies by Aidan. Despite their best efforts though, the four guys buckled against the swarm of demonic soldiers that continuously erupted around the the First Evil's form. These denizens were small in numbers and were easily overpowered by the four guys. Unfortunately, they had to break their formation to do it, allowing the First, that was now lumbering away from the area within the siphon spell's field of influence, to escape. The plan was shot to hell.

"Mal!" Lawin killed the last of his demon soldier. "You didn't tell me it could do that."  
"I didn't know it could do that!"

"What now chappies?" Aidan yelled. "Any more bloody brilliant ideas?"

Malachi was clearly troubled as his hands trembled and his eyes took on a glazed look as the possibility of failure became real. An image flashed in his mind of demonic legions rampaging all over countless worlds, of the natural balance falling into nothing, of this terrible new _thing _that would lay waste to all that once was… Oh crap, maybe the guys upstairs were right. Maybe I was gambling on too much too soon. Think dammit, Think! If we fail here, how much can you salvage from this train wreck?

"Malachi! Snap out of it you goddam bastard!" Connor yelled.

"There… There is a way." Malachi said with uncertainty. "Maybe if we can bring the crystal to the demon… use it directly on the First perhaps it would give Connor the opening he needs." He looked at Lawin. The question was simple enough.

"Are you sure it'll work?" The Scion asked.

"I… I don't know. It might. It might not."

"Wait," Aidan interrupted. "You want us to stick that rock into that thing's flesh? **We can't even get close to that damned demon let alone keep it inside a nice little cordon!**"

Connor looked around. The demon was clearly growing stronger by the second, and the spell would be over in less than a minute. They had to decide now or they won't have another chance. "Screw it!" Connor ran to the Crystal, grabbed it and ran towards the demon.

"What in the… Connor get back here!"

"That's suicide." Aidan shouted. "He'll never make it."

"He won't if we stand around here doing nothing! Come on" Lawin moved first and the remaining two followed.

Connor grabbed the Crystal from the ground and ran hard towards the Chrysalis that was, even now, gaining speed, momentum and power. The Demon wasn't going to make it easy on Connor to follow though, Burst and streams of corrupting energy shot out towards Connor but he deftly dodged them all.

But that was only the beginning. The Demon, sensing its efforts failing summoned more of its own denizens to hold back the Destroyer from making contact on it. This time it succeeded, the demons tackled Connor into a dog pile and pinned him down. The Destroyer killed four to five but they kept coming nonetheless… That is, until a few them burst into flames while others were tackled by their dead comrades, reanimated somehow.

Connor looked back to see that the others had followed him and were giving him all the support he needed. Malachi yelled at him: "What the hell are you waiting for Reilly? Your pension? Get your ass up and kill that thing!"

Connor permitted himself a brief smile of irony. This seems like one of those cheesy movies where the hero saves the day. _I'm a regular_ _knight in Shining armor! Yeah right._ Connor ran again. The demons that stood in his way were growing but with help from the others they did not interfere all that much. The distance to the Chrysalis's surface narrowed. Two yards. Demons lashed out. One more. Blasts of demonic energy seemed to incinerate the air around everything. Just a little more. Cries of unholy rage pierced the dark, English sky. Come on. Come on. Come on. Almost There.

"Connor! Less than fifteen seconds!" Malachi yelled. "Move it!"

Got it.

Connor ran past the last of the tendrils and the rampaging demons and manage to breach the Chrysalis's outer aura. What came next felt was very unusual. It was hard to describe but it felt like being in a Fugue, floating on a misty day with the air so thick that it seemed to consume you. Connor looked to his left and right. **This **was happening beyond the powers of time. And it was then that Connor understood what was happening. It was all in his head. Upon entering the inner aura that was kind of the demon's flesh, Connor became one with it… and the thing – along with the First which was driving it - were afraid of him.

Connor! Connor! The voice that spoke was broken but there was no mistaking the source. My brother! Do not do this!

"You can talk."

Yes and you do not know what you are setting in motion. My coming, our coming has been foretold, but if you strike me down, you will set in motion a series of events that will echo all throughout eternity. You can choose another path, my brethren for you and I are eternal. Together we shall bring this universe to its knees.

"I don't want the universe!"

But you want this. _An image of Connor Reilly as a six year flashed in his mind. In it was his family in their pool, happy and content. _You shall have it, all of it. We will preserve this world, your family, you love… _Tracey smiled lovingly at Connor… _Your father… Angel then Laurence flashed through his mind, for as long as you desire. What does it matter that the rest of the universe falls. You shall find peace and happiness. Is this not what you've wanted since before your creation, my brotheeeer? The last word sounded like death wail.

It took a supreme amount of effort on Connor's part to hold fast. This was his last crucible and he felt that he had truly mastered his hell. "I may not be a champion," Connor rasped. "But I was good enough to take down a hell god. You're nothing to me but another dead demon."

We can bring it all back!

"No."

Do not do this! Do not!

"Burn!"

Connor concentrated the darkness within his soul and felt that power course into the crystals surface, covering it with an energy that ricocheted back into his body. The Crystal was becoming powerful and all the hopes of battle were concentrated in this single moment. It was now or never.

Connor plunged the Crystal into the Chrysalis's surface. Energy mingled with energy and Connor felt the power that occurred. It was incredible, unlike anything that he could ever imagine. In that single moment Connor felt a connection with Absolute Darkness. Absolute Evil. Pain. Agony. Hate. Terror. Destruction. He felt them all. Felt them to be real beyond their flimsy manifestations within human hearts.

He knew that no being short of God could survive this and yet here he was … This was why Malachi wanted him to fight. Because for some reason he could withstand absolute darkness. But that darkness didn't come from the chrysalis. It came from within him, the darkness that he had conquered by choice and inner awareness – pouring out into the enemy – destroying it. He was master of that darkness. It had nearly consumed him before but now, he ruled over it. He remembered Angel, the father who was his salvation. He remembered how he once failed to overcome the darkness. But that was long ago, he was here now, a second chance to face his demons… And he won.

* * *

The night sky bled an evil hue of red, as the First Evil's form grew stronger. The air smelled of foul fumes, the stench of rotting flesh mixed with some unknown element that reeked of decay. The distant howl of death, the silence of fear unbidden and the terrible madness within contributed to the terrifying conflict that was about to happen.

The First summoned all of its power to resist the coming blow but even that would not help him as Connor plunged his blade into the First Evil's form – the Chrysalis, his energies coursing through the blade and making its way into the primordial being. The First was surprised by a sensation that may have been pain.

Connor detached himself and executed a back flip which allowed him to land gently on the ground. Eyes and flesh brimming with the purifying energies, the Destroyer looked at the First Evil. For the first time, Connor knew the first evil, saw how vulnerable it is despite its immense powers. He saw the part that he was meant to play in this grand scheme and it was then that Connor knew why he was so feared and venerated amongst the powers of light and darkness.

He knew what he was. He knew who he was. But now, looking at his enemy, this creature that planned the death of Laurence Reilly, he now knew the true extent of the part he played in the greater scheme of things. This was not just simple intellectual knowledge but true enlightened awareness of something greater.

Connor's soul screamed in ecstasy. For the first time since ever, everything was in its proper place. Everything was whole. Everything made sense. No longer was he bound by the madness of accidental variables. There were no more scattered pieces left. He saw, with his inner eye, the whole picture. He was more than a demon, more than man, more than a god.

He was the Destroyer and not even the First Evil can stop him.

With a final blow, the creature was destroyed and in the countless aeons of its existence, the First Evil finally felt pain, death and touch of mortality.


	11. Chapter 10

Well, here's the last part. Took me a hell of a time writing this three part fanfic but it was worth it. It was something of a test that I gave to myself. I hope you all enjoyed as much I found it fulfilling writing it.

Anyway, I decided to end this little epic with an open-ending, just like NFA did with Angel, but overall, I think it has fully explored Connor's potential as a great character.

So to all my reader (and to Joss and his team for creating such a great show), thanks for reading.

-JO

* * *

Chapter 10: Epilogue

* * *

Last Entry

The spell had gone incredibly well and my son is now divested of the foul Kluthu'karan infection… and his own powers… as well as a sizable number of knowledge garnered from them. Unfortunately, he's like a child again. But I prefer a child to a hell god.

But, where planning is perfect, youthful impertinence is a problem. Damn that Boy! Damn his arrogance! I should have known what he was planning! But the little imp is so unpredictable. I told him to wait until the ward that would stun the people on the other end was ready! I suppose it was arrogance. Perhaps, he thought that he could kill Angelus alone. Ah, Youth! I just hope he will still be in one piece once I reach him.

A group of Nog Hotoths found out about us and tried to block our exodus to Earth. We had to fight them off. All but one were killed, the remnant had inadvertently jumped at the same time as Steven. It was at that moment that I was struck by terror, the portal had nearly collapsed. I thank God that it didn't.

The Nog Hototh would have found out that we had betrayed them by now, but then again, it does not matter. They are too late. By the time they realize it, I would have followed my son back home. If it is truly Earth, then I know that my life's work has ended: Angelus shall fall, Steven shall find his rightful place and I shall, perhaps, find the peace and vengeance I have so longed for.

Steven, if you are reading this now. Have no doubt in your mind that I have loved you because I always have. Whatever has happened since our return, whatever darkness or treachery, I beg you to believe that I have loved you. If I have done you wrong in the past, it was because of the circumstances of our whereabouts. If I have wronged you in the future, then please acknowledge the repentance of a sick, old man who was too weak to fight the darkness within him. I love you Steven, my soul and light in the darkest of worlds. Please take my love, for what it is worth, with you as you traverse your path through life.

All that I have done, I did for you, my son. Should Earth corrupt that light from within you, please find your way back to the light as you have done so in infinitely different circumstances before.

You are special Steven. Do not believe what the darkness tells you. Yes, you were born from out of darkness but you are not _of_ the darkness. No, you are the light within the eternal night. You carry with you the banner of heaven in the deepest pits of hell.

I love you Steven… I kept this journal for you… Always for you, my son.

- Daniel Holtz, Darkest of the Dark Worlds

* * *

It was silent now. It was over.

The creature of limitless power, which had only moments ago threatened to erupt into unspeakable proportions, no longer existed. The nightmare was over, and the First Evil – the power which was the prime mover of all these events – had retreated, beaten by the Destroyer.

Fingers eased themselves on both triggers and sword hilts. Blood began to pump slower. The rage was dissipating. The pain of wounds washed over the senses. Legs buckled and the joy – the boundless joy, which came from survival – erupted into chuckles and sighs of relief.

Even the sky and the air no longer howled their lamentations. The noise of distant city intruded, but its intrusion brought relief, for they knew that the darkness and monstrosities which had threatened to erupt into an endless tide had faded away like all the others.

They had won.

Connor had won.

The Destroyer's individuation was complete. The only question which remained is what does it mean for the rest of creation?

"I'll be a dirty son of a bitch! Is it over? Did we really pull it off?" Lawin had an awkward smile on his face. Defeating the sum total of the well's hell-deities was a staggering feat of… well… impossible.

"Yes, Lawin. We pulled it off." Malachi smiled, but in a sad way for he knew that there was one last thing that needs to be done. And it would be the hardest one for both he and Connor Reilly. "Will he be fine?" The question was directed at Lawin regarding Aidan.

"He's breathing." Lawin answered. Aidan was knocked out by a falling branch when the First's form exploded. "If he's gonna die. I think I'll die laughing." There was no malice in Lawin's voice but someone who could survive an apocalypse and yet die from a piece of wood? "Hell be fine. No concussions. But I think there's still a bullet or two lodged somewhere inside his gut."

Malachi simply shrugged. "Stay with him. I'll go find Connor."

"He's with his father," a female voice spoke from behind Malachi. It was a familiar voice – a voice he had never hoped would be here. A million thoughts spun inside Malachi's mind, trying to sort out what devilment brought her here.

"Hey." Dawn greeted him pleasantly. "Connor invited me here."

Confused, Malachi wanted to attack her and demand what was going on. How did she get here? Did Whistler plan this? Whose plot was this? Malachi did not know what to do.

This was no coincidence that's for sure.

"My sister was injured…" Dawn said. "She was uh… injured." The way she said the news implied that things were dire. Malachi wasn't sure how to respond though he already knew of the news even before she told him. She smiled warmly, and it brought a chill down the mentalist's spine considering what she just said.

"I need to see Connor," Dawn said it like it was an order, and Malachi knew that it was something which he needed to obey… or else.

Malachi didn't say anything while Lawin looked on with detached intensity. The mentalist wondered if she knew about what he's plotting to do. There was no way that he could answer that right now, so he led her to Connor who was tending to his father not far from where the Deeper Well used to be.

The area was surprisingly serene. Aside from a few glowing embers, there was nothing to indicate that a battle had raged here. Connor heard and smelled them coming even before they got near to him. He didn't greet them or anything just continued to tend to Angel's wounds with whatever materials were at hand. Connor's own wounds were healing but it was still clear what kind of ordeal he had went through – they all had went through.

"Is that…" Dawn was aghast when she caught sight of Angel.

"Yes." Malachi said emotionlessly.

"What happened to him?" Dawn asked.

"It's a long story." Connor answered without turning. "The Powers, you see, needed Angel. They know how important he is, just as much as they know how dangerous I am. They were basically playing God and they were pretty successful at it… until now. Isn't that right, Mal?" Connor looked at Malachi who stared back at him nervously.

Mal tilted his head sideways. This time, noncommittally. "Is that so?"

Connor didn't say anything in response but stared at Dawn serenely. Dawn returned the same calm look and stole a glance at Angel.

"You both look like a hell," Dawn said calmly, referring to Connor and Angel.

Connor gave a wan smile. "What can I say? We're Irish."

Dawn chuckled, but Connor remained quiet. He returned his gaze back at Malachi and smiled. "Here's where I tell you what you're plotting."

Malachi remained quiet, but his muscles tensed and readied himself for trouble.

A smirk crawled into Connor's face and then he sat down on nearby log. "It all started months ago. The powers knew what was going to happen even before it happened. They were scared of a lot of things. They were scared of demon armies marching across this world. They were scared of the Marastoth tearing this world apart in his madness. And they were scared of the First Evil along with all its power. But what they were most scared of… was me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Malachi sneered.

Connor ignored the rebuke. "They were scared of what I going to become and I may become, but they didn't really know. Not for sure. That's the nature of the paradox isn't it, Mal? In order for the 'Destroyer' to become real he had to transcend the universal pattern – and if the powers are good at anything it's universal patterns. It was a requirement that the Destroyer be above and beyond the powers of the oracle to predict, and here we have another fear – The powers and their servants feared choice. They feared free will – real free will…" Connor pointed at Malachi, "they could not predict the events which surrounds me, and so they needed something to make sure that nothing goes wrong. An insurance policy if you like, but they needed to do it with the only leverage they have on me." Connor tapped on his head. "Connor Reilly. This was their trump card, and they needed you to do their work for them. And once everything is done," Connor waved an impassive hand at the devastation, "they'll use these memories to control me and make me forget who I am… what I am. Because when you get right down to it. I am the sum of all your fears. I represent something beyond prediction – something primal and you want to control that, don't you Mal? You and your bosses want to make sure that my very existence does not threaten the balance of all creation. Well, here we are. Tell me Mal. Have you succeeded in your mission?"

There was no point in lying. Malachi knew this. Connor pieced it together quite nicely. Nevertheless, he kept quiet.

Connor then spoke very slowly. "What's the plan Mal? How were the powers going to go about controlling my memories?"

Malachi remained quiet.

"Answer me!"

"I…" Malachi swallowed hard. "I was given another Orlon Window." That was enough. Those few words alone held enough meaning to drown out thought.

"Are you going to use it," Connor replied in the same tone of voice.

"I'm a soldier," the mentalist said sadly.

"Ah, yes. And a good soldier always follows orders." Connor then reached into his coat and revealed a small glowing shard. There was no mistaking what it was.

"That's the Bane Crystal." Malachi stared at Connor with barely concealed horror. How? How? How? That shard implied a lot of problems. "What do you plan to do with crystal?" Malachi hissed. Connor was suddenly holding all the cards. The repartee was a sign of weakness and both of them knew it.

"A fragment of it actually," Connor said. Malachi still looked dumbfounded. "I managed to cut it out from the original crystal before I destroyed it, and if I use this on myself. Connor Reilly will be gone forever. I'll be a real demon in mentality. Not even the Orlon Window will be able to change that."

Inside Malachi's head, people from the office above started screaming down at him. Malachi! What the hell's going on! What went wrong? How did he get his hands on that? You said that the memories were already taken care of!

Malachi suddenly understood what went wrong that day. Nothing was an accident. He of all beings should have known that. Connor had his own plots. Malachi was a fool to underestimate him.

"I did not expect things to happen the way they did, but it was a risk that I was prepared to take at that time." Connor said.

Malachi glanced at the shard. It was tiny little thing. No bigger than a small rock, but the damage that it could do…

"What are you planning?" Malachi snarled.

"You first," Connor ordered, and it's the kind of order that said that he already knows about Malachi's plans. Malachi retrieved the Orlon Window and showed it to Connor. Although there was overt violence involved, both knew that they were in a Mexican standoff.

"My orders were to use the Orlon Window and… _restore _your memories back into Connor Reilly. Remove all memories of Steven Holtz and the Destroyer. Bury the dark parts of your psyche. That's what you want right? Go back into being Connor Reilly? That's what you keep bitching about." Malachi dared a little wit.

"Spare me the false courtesy. What you're trying to do is to take away the demon in me. Defang the Destroyer and let him live out his life in peace as a regular joe by tinkering with his memories. In return, I cease to be an overt threat to your bosses. It's a win-win scenario. That's what your bosses ordered you to do right?"

"You can say that. I answered your question. Now, it's your turn."

Connor clasped his hands behind his back and tiptoed upwards slightly in a boyishly charming fashion. "Remember when I blew up the original Bane Crystal? Make no mistake, I didn't expect things to have turned so badly, but nevertheless, I managed to steal this shard before you could have a chance to get to the scene. Gave it to Dawn for safe keeping. She passed it on to Whistler then it came back to me." Connor smiled again. "You higher being types really can't predict me can you?" He said with a sardonic tone – it was the voice of something else. The Destroyer? No. Something more primal.

"You son of bitch! You son of a bitch!" Malachi flared.

"Son of a whore actually. But bitch and demon also works. But let's get back to business. I'm going to make you a deal."

"A deal!" Malachi spat.

"Let's start with my father…"

"The powers are willing to resurrect Laurence Rei…"

"Not Laurence. Angel. We both know that he has become expendable to your leaders, and expendable things have a way of disappearing. I want to bargain for his life."  
"Is that so? And what do you plan to bargain with?"

Connor smiled a wicked smile. "Before I do, tell me something Mal, what'll happen if I destroy the memories? Mass genocide? Apocalyptic war? Eons of destruction. These precious little memories will release me of all my humanity." Malachi quailed and Connor knew the answer. "You don't need to answer. Something worse huh? The office upstairs getting fucked along with all the other higher beings? That's what I am, right? I'm supposed to be a threat to those _guys _up there?" Connor pointed skywards. "Not here."

Malachi laughed but it was measured. "You're delusional."

"Maybe. But I might not really care if I _try _this out, huh?" Connor made as if to crush the shard.

"No!" Malachi yelled. He was afraid. Of course he was afraid. All of them were – the demons, the higher beings and those that can see the future. You can invent annihilation!

"You will make Angel human as was stated by your _prophecies_." Connor said. He looked at Dawn, remembering his pact with her in exchange for his cooperation, "you will also keep Buffy Summers alive..."

"She's dead."

"Not yet she's not and we both know it. Oh, I know about how and why she's a liability to the Powers that Be. I know full well also why the slayer army, which she unleashed into the world, are a threat to everybody's plans. But regardless of any of these concerns, your bosses will keep her alive, and more importantly, you will erase her memories and you will give her a normal human life."

Malachi's eyes twitched up and he looked at Dawn. "Was this your idea or hers?" So this was how Connor managed to get Dawn to side with him!

"It's my idea." Dawn said without waiting, her voice shaking a bit. "I had a little talk with Whistler he explained why you and your people view Buffy as a threat. He made a very convincing case. We talked it over, and we agreed that this was the best for the best."

"Whistler…" Malachi sneered the name.

"You will do this Mal, and in exchange I won't do anything to my brain." Connor said.

"I can't do that!"

"You can and you will. Yours masters will do as I say or else."  
"You're really convinced that you're a threat to _them_, aren't you?"

"Of course I do, and we both know it."

"Angel and Buffy. Hmph. Anything else? Surely, you have other demands."

"Only one last thing. I want the Reilly's safe. I want them out of all this crap. I want all traces of Connor Reilly gone from their minds. I want them to never know that I existed, make it so that Connor Reilly I never existed." Connor's voice trembled with each word. "Angel gave these people to me for a better life, but I've only ended up ruining theirs. It's time I settle accounts.

"We were prepared to resurrect Laurence Reilly, but given your new conditions I'm not sure that's possible anymore," Malachi said.

"I know." Connor's face darkened. "Just do what you can for my… mom and Kit."

Malachi was tense. He knew what Connor was trying to achieve with all this bargaining, but he dared a question nonetheless. "Don't you want your happy life Connor? Don't you want to be with your family?"

"I do, Mal. More than you can ever hope to imagine. But, that's why I'm here today - because I love them, as I loved Angel and as I loved Holtz and Cordy. Love – that goddam thing is the root of all my problems. Sometimes, I wish…" Connor shrugged and skipped to another train of thought. "It doesn't matter if I can't go back to them. It doesn't matter if I'm erased from their memories forever. All that matters is that I love them. As long as I have that power, I'm saved. You see, that is one of Angel's greatest gifts to me – his sacrifice allowed me to love and feel again."

"You talk of love even as you blackmail _us_ to your will."

Connor laughed. "I think it ironic and somehow sad. All you so-called higher powers – with your machinations to change the future – you're all the same. Sahjahn, Jasmine, you, the first evil and maybe even poor old Marastoth – you were all conspiring to stop little old me. Well, now I'm here. And the only thing that begs the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"The situation is very fluid." Connor raised the shard once more and made as if to use it on himself. "Are you sure you want to make it worse?"

Malachi would make one more try. "Do you know what you're doing? You're ruining your life Connor! You'll lose your family! Tracey! Think of the normal life you want… you've always wanted! Are you just gonna throw that away!"

"A long time ago, two vampires threw away their lives for their child. So did a number of people for the things they loved. Why should I hesitate?" The voice was part noble, part mad. "They were willing to die, to kill, to suffer." Connor toyed with shard. "So very easy to create, if you have the original fragments with you."

Malachi! Stop him! The voice upstairs shouted some more.

What the hell do you want me to do?

Do? You ask us that? You were the one who was so sure everything would work out fine!

The Klutu and Horde and the Chrysalis are all destroyed! Malachi retorted.

Stop! Just stop it! Everybody here knows that this was never about those cretins or that tiny little world that humans call home. Maybe it was reason enough for you but to us you promised you could maneuver the Destroyer into accepting a false reality of himself.

The bastard was playing us all along. He fooled us all.

Don't point out the obvious. Do something. Parley with him. Grant his request. Anything's better than what he's currently planning to himself.

Is it really that bad?

We… Don't know. Just stop him! Do whatever it takes.

"What's wrong Mal?" Connor tilted his head in an amused look. "People upstairs not liking what's happening."

Malachi glared at Connor and lashed out with his mind at his superiors. We need to parley with him. He manipulated us into this position because he wants something.

"Very well Connor. You win. _They'll_ do as you want."

Connor smiled as he lowered his head to hide it. It was amusing to humble someone so condescending. "You're pretty generous. And to be honest I don't want you to make a hustler out of bunch of higher beings." Connor looked at Angel, crumpled on one side the area.

Malachi flared. "I hope you know what you're doing for Angel."

Connor chuckled and toyed with the orb to remind Malachi that he still possessed it. "I couldn't save Holtz from the hate that had killed him. I couldn't sacrifice the lives of millions just to save my _dad._." Connor felt a tear slide down his cheeks at Laurence's memory. He just shrugged. "Third times the charm, huh?" There was nothing comforting in the words. It was part madness and part innocence – which was a completely _Connor_ thing_._

You heard him, Malachi said internally. What are we going to do about Angelus?

The voices were ecstatic. That was a close call. A disaster has been averted through a small concession and now…

"And the _Slayer._"

"Yes. The slayer." Malachi laughed derisively. "Playing cupid, Mr. Stanford?"

"Not at all, but a deal's a deal, and I made a deal with Dawn. I couldn't care less if you pair them up as a romantic comedy couple or turn them into Jerry Springer's nightmare. Just give them a chance to find happiness in this life. And I'm not doing this for my Dad. It's for Dawn. We owe it to her." Connor looked at Malachi smugly. Dawn looked at Connor with barely concealed misgivings. "We couldn't have gone this far without Dawn's help."

"One always keeps his friends close, and his enemies closer. You're both those things, Mal. How does it feel to be the guinea pig this time?" Connor said, gloating.

Malachi's attention was not on Angel. It was on the son. The human part of him, the part that he thought was gone forever when he became an agent of the powers, somehow felt that it needed to do something. He always knew though, Malachi, he always knew that unleashing the Destroyer would always come down to this choice… for him and the boy who was not really a boy.

Malachi stared at the stars, he knew what hid beyond the darkness and light, he knew them all as all seers like Whistler, Doyle and he knew them. The thoughts in his mind whirled. The next step is into the unknown, only faith could sustain them all, faith that they were not damning themselves.

"Yes?" Dawn looked like she wanted to ask something.

"Is it over?"

"Yes."

"And… those infected by the Kluthu?"

"Are safe."

Dawn sighed with relief, "And the Slayers?"

Malachi understood the hidden question. "They're fine for now, but for how long, I cannot say." Malachi swallowed hard. He had expected the Summers girl to rage, to cry, to do anything but she just stood there with a quiet dignity that seemed to say that she knew he did his best. "This is the part where you start cursing me."

Dawn looked at him with a pain filled eyes. "You have no idea what I can live with," she said cryptically.

With nothing left for him to fight for, Malachi could only resort to intimidating suggestions. The mentalist turned to Connor with a wry smile. "It's a deal Mr. Reilly, but there's one thing that you should know."

"Oh?" Connor was curious as to what this could be. A threat? A bargain? A plea?

"Yes. Have you ever wondered why the First evil was so intent in destroying you?"

"He viewed me as a threat like you do."

"Oh, it's more than that." Malachi sneered. "You just annihilated the combined might of the hellgods of the deeper well. You stopped a demon war. You, yourself are the product of impossibility. Tell me child, do you really think it's that simple?"

Something clicked inside Connor's head. "Are you seriously suggesting that I am destined to destroy the First."

"Destined? Ha!" Malachi blasted Connor with an impotent psionic burst. It didn't even faze him. He became annoyed and threw the mentalist to the floor – head first.

Malachi wiped the sweat from the side of his mouth and continued, "Destined? No." Malachi stood up to face Connor's nonchalant face with his wrathful glare. "You chose this by making your choice." Malachi touched the bite marks on Connor's neck. Connor swatted his hand away and Malachi laughed. "You will _kill_ the First Evil, fate ordains it, your choice commands it, but you must understand that the First Evil also serves a function, and when that function goes so does balance. By simply existing you have damned this universe into chaos.

"I understood that there would be consequences, but…"

"You underestimated their true extent." Malachi was breathing heavily and there was malevolent hatred in his eyes, as if Connor was the greatest evil in the world. "Does it matter? Would you have made different choices?"

"No. I wouldn't have made a different choice. You're right." The answer was full of steel.

Malachi turned his back on Connor. "You're just like your father," he spat.

"No, Mal. I'm worse. Angel wanted to fight the darkness to help people. Me? I fight so I can kick the asses of everyone who wants to hunt me down like an animal… demon, human or higher being." Malachi looked at Connor with a surprised look of horror. Reilly smiled back at him with a smug look of superiority.

Malachi recovered quickly. "Victory is more than just about cunning and strength, Connor. And though you may have both in abundance, you still need to understand that that victory is also about destiny. Now that you have made _the _choice, you're path will lead you to the destruction of the First Evil, and with it, change of all creation irrevocably. You do not know what your very choice and existence is setting into motion."

"Neither do you."

Malachi laughed nervously. "True, but I know this much and you've missed one small part of the story. Before change - true change - can occur, the entire system – the old system – must be torn down to make way for the new. Yes, you will change everything but before that will happen you must first destroy the past. Do you have the balls for that little boy?" Malachi smiled.

"The time will come. The age where magick and demons and sorcery will cease to be. The slayers will play a part in it." Malachi looked at Lawin and Aidan on the floor, sprawled and helpless. "So will the council. So will the ancients and the mage clans of old. But you Connor… You will be at its beginning and its end. You are the catalyst. Beyond higher being or demon. Beyond good and evil. The very heart of a new type of existence – creation! And you will destroy everything to achieve that destiny! Let that knowledge sustain you in the dark times ahead."

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

When Connor made his deal with Malachi and the powers to remove the memory of Connor Reilly from ever existing, that particular deal also covered Tracy's memory as well. Like Colleen and Kit Reilly, Tracy had never known Connor. No one had heard of Connor Reilly. He never existed.

No knows how the Powers could manipulate people so easily but that's the way it is. The official story was that Laurence died in car crash, his corpse burned to ashes in the resulting explosion, during those strange months when LA and the whole world were consumed by a strange type of darkness which nearly erupted into something unspeakable. No one wanted to talk about it, but that's the way things were, and people were not willing to question what their minds told them.

And neither did Colleen and Kit Reilly. Their lives had been turned upside down. Although they had lost Laurence Reilly, they couldn't help but feel that they lost someone else – someone their minds could not tell them.

Connor's sacrifice – no matter how bitter or morally ambiguous – was done for their best interest. He brought this misery upon them. Only he can remove it.

Connor attended Laurence's burial a few weeks later. He watched the whole event from afar, watched his Family for the last time before he moves on with his own destiny. It was a difficult affair, and Connor went through the whole ordeal without falling apart. And for the hundredth time since his deal with Malachi, he questioned himself if he did the right thing. And for the same hundredth time, he knew that Connor Reilly had to die – the memory of his existence locked away within the Destroyer's mind.

Still, it was a painful decision but what's done is done. Everyone Connor loved was safe, and they'll stay safe as long as Connor plays along with the Powers that Be and all the other higher beings who were eager to find out what his existence means for them.

As for Tracey, she returned to art school after the nightmare in LA was over. She had flashes of inexplicable memories about a boy she once knew, but that was all they were. She didn't even understand why she went to LA in the first place. This distressed her and made her restless in so many ways which she cannot articulate.

All she could do was channel this inexplicable madness into what she did best.

She was going to write a new graphic novel. It would be about a young interstellar prince who was banished into a dark nebula, and he must find his way back to who he once was…

The protagonist would have a gentle face. He will have dark blond, brown hair and he will have a prudish but gallant personality. He would save the galaxy from an evil creature that inserted nightmares into minds and souls for they feared his destiny greatly.

"Now, where did that come from," she wondered aloud at her sudden rush of inspiration.

* * *

After the long debacle, Malachi and Whistler were summoned to a very important meeting. They had a lot of explaining to do after the mess they both caused, but at this point they were both grateful that they had won… sort of won.

Malachi and Whistler were inside a small cavern and within it lay a small pool of water. It rippled as a presence came upon the water's surface, and several voices speaking as one, called out to both Malachi and Whistler with an almost ticked off tone.

"Well, what do you two have to say for yourselves?" the voice asked with a hint of anger.

"I did everything I was ordered to do," Malachi said. Whistler remained silent defiant even in light of his treachery to the Powers that Be.

"And you have, but perhaps your interference – our interference may have made the whole situation much more difficult than it should be." The voice then turned to Whistler. "And what about you? Have you nothing to say for yourself?" The voice echoed its irritation.

A smirk came upon Whistler's face. "What do you want me to say? You and your minion," Whistler looked at Malachi briefly, "tried to control something that is never meant to be controlled. Make no mistake I still serve you, but we both know that what you tried to do – what you all tried to do would eventually have done great harm not only to the Destroyer but to us all."

"You would speak like that to the…" Malachi protested.

"Enough!" The voice in the pool snapped. "What's done is done. Let us hope that you're right Whistler."

"We have an understanding with Connor," Malachi said. "That has to be worth something."

"That remains to be seen," the voice responded. "Although the situation has become more complicated, it's best that we be patient for now."

"What's going to happen now that the Destroyer is whole?" Malachi asked the question that was in everyone's minds.

"We do not know. No one knows, but it could have been worse. Far worse."

"Where do we stand at the moment?" Whistler asked.

"We don't know, but one thing's for certain, Connor's very existence will cause great harm to us all. But ironically, he may also be our greatest hope."

Whistler and Malachi became uncomfortable at this. They both knew the dangers lurking in the darkness, even before Connor came along. And no, this was not the kind of danger posed by demons or mad men. The universe was dying. It had grown stale. Destiny and Fate declared that all things languishing without a spirit must die.

Connor will restore that spirit back into the system, but not without a lot of suffering and pain.

"Yes," the voice spoke almost eagerly as Malachi and Whistler flinched, "he is both our greatest hope… and our greatest enemy…"

* * *

Lawin walked into the large roomy cavern where eight to ten ancients were hidden in the shadows, all that was left of their ancient order. Vrill and Boluz the impromptu leaders were hiding themselves behind the shadows.

"Hello guys," Lawin's face was arrogant. "How's life treating you?"

"Lawin." Vrill spoke for the others. Since the end of the debacle, Vrill and Boluz became the spokespersons for all the ancients, though they were never really trusted each other. "Please come closer lad."

"I suppose you've heard that Rukash is dead." Lawin said, without taking a step closer.

"He and Anash were both mad," Boluz said. "They both needed to die."

"Quite. There's something wrong with your voice. What happened to you guys?" Lawin asked.

The ancients snickered, and as one they stepped out of the shadows. Each one of them had been transformed into some kind of unspeakable monstrosity. Boluz and Vrill looked worst of them all. They had turned into large floating heads, and whatever humanity they had was now twisted into monstrosities.

"What the hell have you done to yourselves?" Lawin asked with disgust in his voice.

"What is necessary for us to survive." The withering demonic head of Vrill responded disdainfully. Boluz's looming visage was not far behind. "We used a spell to transform ourselves. Think of it as ascension"

"Why?"

"We're leaving for a different dimension – an exodus if you will. And where we're going, we can use all the help we could get."

"An exodus? What for?"

Vrill chuckled, his face a contortion of smoke and energy. "I'd say that's none of your business, lad. But don't worry, we'll be back and on that day, things will be a lot different than they are now.

"Different as in you'd turn everyone into floating heads?"

The two ancients despised Lawin's sarcasm and so they decided to be rid of all pleasantries. "You did not return here to serve us again. What is it you want to ask?" It was a flat out statement.

"Well," Lawin sighed. "You're right about that. After the mess with Anash..." Lawin frowned. "I have to move on. I came here to make sure that you fuckers weren't up to no good and to make sure that you're not setting up some plan to kill me."

Boluz laughed. "Kill you? Now why would we want to do that? You've managed to participate in one of the biggest events in the universe and all you could think about are assassination attempts."

"Perhaps, but I've learned these past few days that I'm not paranoid enough."

"Ah, the ignorance of youth," Vrill spoke. "you could not comprehend what you and your friends have set in motion."

"Believe me, I know. I've heard the sermons over and over again."

"No, you don't, but in time you will. Oh yes, you will. And don't worry, even though we won't be around, you will still be doing our bidding. When we return from our exile – and we will return – we will reclaim our work." Vrill said as he floated closer to Lawin.

"There aren't a lot of us anymore," Boluz chimed in, "but we have renewed purpose. That, alone, makes us stronger than we ever were, and we have you to thank for it."

"You're welcome. I guess."

"Indeed, and in return for your… services. We will share with you a little secret."

"Oh?" Lawin asked coyly. "Would this secret by any chance help me solve the mystery of the Scion line?"

Vrill shook his head. "No, much more precious than that."

"What we offer you is a peek into the future," Boluz continued. "What you aswell as countless others have set in motion will ignite the world into unpredictable directions. In time, magicks and demons and all creatures of mysticism shall fade from this world." Boluz predicted ominously.

"Even the Slayers?"

"Especially the Slayers, but don't worry about them. One day they shall return – all magicks and power. And on that day, everything shall be made anew," Vrill added. "We will be profoundly changed."

"This is all thanks to you, young Zarakite. All thanks to the Destroyer. I hope you're happy. You've set in motion a series of events that could very well annihilate all creation…" Boluz said with scorn.

"Or save it," Urkonn interjected as he came into the vast cavern. "Hello boy, it's almost heartening to see you alive."

"Likewise, Urkonn." Lawin's voice was heavy with irony. "That's your secret?"

"Yes, that's it," Boluz answered and then added. "Urkonn still works for us. "He will leave with us. May we meet in a different time, young Zarakite."

Lawin pondered these thoughts as he left the presence of the ancients. It seems like an entire lifetime has passed since he met them and now they were about to flee. He wondered what machinations the future had in store for him, but one thing's certain for him, he was involved in it.

_You're fucked, you know that right? _The Scion told him.

Lawin didn't even bother to respond. He just went straight to taking a hearty swig from his flask.

* * *

For several days, Aidan fled from several men, men who were once watchers. He did not know what they wanted from him – only that he was now a man on the run for his involvement in the events these past few months. He knew too much and they want to know what he knew. Did Giles or the council send them? Did splinter groups of the council send them? Or were they working for other forces yet to be revealed? Aidan did not know.

A few days after leaving LA for Mexico, heavily armed men stormed a hideout that he had been using only to find out that the former watcher had long since fled.

"Aidan Travers! Come out with your hands up! We know you're there!"

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Kick down the door."

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Area secured sir!" A deep British voice called out to his superiors. "He's not here. We're too late."

"Godrotting bastard! I want him found! Do you understand me? I want him Found! Alive or otherwise!"

"We caun't stay here. That godrotting bastard, Giles, knows about us now. He'll want us hunted down."

"To hell with that bloody son of a bitch. We can keep clear of him and his little girls. You just worry about Travers. Find him! Kill him if you have to, but find him!"

* * *

Somewhere near the Mexican border.

Aidan threw his bag over his shoulder and abandoned his life as a watcher. Whatever it was that happened in LA stays in LA. He still has a lot of problems, not the least of which were the demonic implants stuck inside his body which were keeping him from ending up dead, but there was no going back. It took a cosmic event to convince him that the council was dying and perhaps the slayer line as well. It might survive. Perhaps. But Aidan will need to survive first if he's going to do anything about it.

And so Aidan Travers, grandson of Quentin Travers, traveled south into an uncertain future.

* * *

Two Weeks After

Somewhere in Stanford, Connor sat musing. He had just finished his IHUM class, and was set to go to a party on the quad later that evening. But for now, Connor wanted to think. So many things have happened. So many victories… and losses.

He sat down in front of his laptop and began scanning his Emails, but his mind was focused on the task of sorting out the repercussions of everything that has transpired. Malachi and none of the so-called agents of the Powers That Be had not contacted him yet, but he was expecting their call sometime soon. Soon - Very soon. But, I shall be ready for them.

_They will come fully prepared, thinking to cage me in some sort of plot or another – and, I'll let them, because ironically it will buy me more time to figure out what I am meant to do next. That's one of the greatest things about growing up in Quortoth – you are taught how to survive, and how to use others to serve that end._

As his thoughts twisted and turned around plots and counterplots, he thought about Connor Reilly's family and the human in him reeled with agony. The Destroyer, though, sat apart from the human creature within him – allowing it the luxury of suffering.

Connor imagined his fake memories to have a mind of its own. The human part – the human who was Connor Reilly would be crying out in misery and pain if that were true. It would be like being trapped within a nightmare – relegated into a fragile illusion within the mind of a creature that was far from human – that had never been human. He was supposed to be real, and the demon was the lie. But, it was the other way around. The human was the lie – the creature was the truth. It's staggering – to know that you are just a façade worn by a _thing _that was not even human – that you've never been real.

Connor reflected on this and decided to put it away into another compartment in his mind. Nevertheless, one can't help but be a little paranoid about the power brokers out there, secretly manipulating things one step at a time.

How foolish of Mal to even think that he could hoodwink me to fight the Kluthu without me knowing about his secret dealings with Marastoth. It's amazing how people could be so gullible – even the most powerful of creatures. It happened to me once. I know just how dangerous that pitfall is. Still, Connor admitted that he could not have done it all alone.

_Whistler, you are a true friend and ally. I hope we shall meet each other soon. It's such a pity that you serve the powers that be. But, then again so did Angel - such a waste._

But even with all the sacrifices, even with all the pain, suffering and double dealings, Connor felt something come over him – a sensation that gave him more power than he could have expected. It was something more powerful than hell gods and their powers- a peculiar sensation that Connor was very sure he had never felt before – hope.

Is it real?

It is. Hope exists because people are willing to love and sacrifice many things for that love – Like Angel, like Dawn. Connor placed his hands behind his head and leaned back lazily on the chair. Yep, nothing to do with hell gods,, or higher fates or chances – just people…

These thoughts summoned the various aspects of Connor's awareness into consciousness, and they struggled and raged at him.

The Steven Holtz within him cried out in rage, but he cut it short.

"That's enough! You've had your chance in this world, and you fucked up – with Jasmine, Angel and with Cordy. You always needed me to fix things – here and in Quortoth - and even that was never enough. You believed in lies. You needed illusions to sustain you. You feed on false sentimental rage, all the while bemoaning your pathetic pretensions of how messed up the world is, and how it never works as it should. Angel had to give us a helping hand - always. God, I'm sick of your incessant whining. You can come out next time when I need to convince people I'm reckless and stupid, but for now keep quiet!

The voices became silent and Connor's thoughts once again turned to his father and the legacy they gave me.

Holtz taught me to be ruthless, and that I was born into darkness, and that I was also free, but only as long as I am willing to defy those who would use me – which, ironically included Holtz.

Angel taught me that there is such a thing as hope, and that you can only be broken from within – only from within. And that, no matter how far you've fallen, you can always get back up – that there is good in this world for anyone who is willing to pay the necessary price.

Laurence taught me tenderness, and gave me the humanity that I never had. Such a precious gift but so useless – not like the others. So many times the demon within me laughed at its futility. So many times I was glad that I did not abandon it. So many times I told the demon within to go fuck itself.

_And what about me, Connor? What about my siblings and me? Marastoth's imaginary voice asked. Was I not also your father? After all, was I not the one who first recognized your divinity?_

You gave me power Mar. That's about it. You say you wanted me to create your future for you? That's a lie. You were a blind fanatic that prayed to hollow gods. I am no god – I am something else, you were right about that, at least. I am the new.

Yes, you are new. And this is only the beginning.

Indeed, and I have to watch my freakin' back from now on.

No different from Qoutoth.

"No, not different at all," Connor whispered to the wind, "but something eternal and primal made manifest."

Yes, the First was right. I wear the Demon, Steven Holtz and Connor Reilly like masks. But they are real – those personas that I wear, expressions of something much deeper. They are real because they are a part of my past, and more importantly, because they are gifts from my fathers – they have shaped who I am. I was always here, always changing, but always the same – changing to create and changing to destroy. I will cherish it all forever.

And yet, I am also more than they. I am also the Destroyer the Higher Powers fear, and that is also truth.

I did not choose to be who I am – It was my destiny!

Somewhere inside of Connor, a deep voice laughed at the lie. Connor laughed in response. And the several voices inside his head joined in the general outpour of laughter

"Dude? What's so funny" Connor's room mate, Tobey asked amusedly.

"Nothing. I was just thinking how great it is to be alive." Tobey didn't see it, but the person who responded to him was not human. He shrugged his shoulders and left the room "Yep, nice and dandy."

Connor felt the presence of the First enter his dorm room. The entity didn't even bother to manifest itself into any particular image. "Hi."

"Your next," Connor greeted.

"We'll see," the incorporeal being responded.

It may have taken a long time, and a lot of plotting, but the Destroyer was finally here. Destruction itself walks among humanity.

Connor looked at his watch and got up. He had a very important appointment coming up and he wanted to be punctual about it.

* * *

Connor stared down at the docks. The afternoon sun was reddish gold and beautiful against the Californian sea. He had memories of such sensations when he was four, when his father would take the whole family down to this place for ice cream and a view of the sunset. Sometimes, that pleasing memory would be interrupted by a demon from Quartoth, demons he had killed as a wild, young boy growing up in a hell dimension but he had grown used to that now. Somehow, he was able to integrate these two versions of himself into a singular whole. He was at peace. "Dad…" He muttered absentmindedly.

Dawn came up from behind him and brushed the tear away. "Which one."

Connor wanted to be angry but he snickered at the honest observation. "All of them," he said then added: "the Bastards."

Dawn laughed warmly then became somber. "Thank you."

Connor eyed Dawn carefully. "For what?"

"For helping my sister, and me. I don't trust you, but for what it's worth I'm thankful for what you've done for me."

Connor's face became angry for a moment at the 'don't trust' part then relaxed.

Always a catch, Connor thought. "You should thank Whistler, not me. He did most of the hard work."

"He wasn't the only one who went through hell." Dawn leaned close to Connor and kissed him on the cheek. The boy smiled a bit and became nonplussed. "Thank you," Dawn said shyly. "It means all the world to me."

"I couldn't stand by and let the higher power let your sister die because it was convenient for everyone."

Dawn smiled again. "You may not think yourself a champion, Connor. But you are, more than you'll ever realize."

"I'm not. Past experience taught me that it's best not to make too much expectation of yourself. You'll only be miserable if you are forced to cross the line."

"My sister used to think the same thing."

"You'll never see her again. You can never tell your friends, your family that she's okay. She'll be dead to the world and she might as well be dead to you too. Is it all worth it?" A long time ago, a father said yes to those questions… He said yes, for his son, for his beliefs and for love.

Dawn looked at Angel down below. "You already answered that question."

"We both have," Connor said and he began the trek below.

* * *

Liam wasn't sure why the young man next to him was so disturbingly familiar. There was something about the twenty year old that reminded him of someone… someone he wasn't sure he even knew. Finally, after a few tedious minutes of waiting, Liam broke his cool and asked. "Excuse me. Do I know you?" Liam asked.

Connor gave a puzzled look at the man next to him. "Don't think so." Connor shook his head. "We met somewhere?"

Liam stared at him some more then wrenched his gaze away. "No, not really. At least I don't think so. Sorry... I'm Sorry. I thought I knew you for a moment there. Sorry."

"Hey, man, nothing to be sorry about. Just an honest mistake."

Liam felt awkward so he introduced himself. "Liam," he extended a hand.

"Connor," accepting the handshake.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how I got here."

"Amnesia?"

"No." Liam made an insulted grimace. "No. Just really weird… feelings. Like you couldn't put your day on sequence, you know."

"I get that sometimes," Connor laughed. _You don't know the half of it. _"Having one of those days, probably."

"Tell me about it. Whole day is just… weird. Just plain weird. I'm in some kind of bizarro twilight zone fugue."

Connor chuckled at the odd choice of words. "I get a lot of that too. Come here often?"

"First time I went here… I think."

"Hey, Maybe you're having one of those subconscious things that make you do things. I mean, do you use to go to places like beaches?"

"No." Liam smiled. "Not really."

Connor laughed at the honest statement. "My dad use to bring me here to see the sunsets." Connor looked out across the water. Where he betrayed me, he wanted to add; but that wound was closed a long time ago. "I sorta like to keep the tradition."

"Where is he now?"

"Passed away." They all have.

"I'm sorry. He sounds like he was a great guy."

"He was." They all were, in their own way.

"Well, while we're on the subject… My dad always told me I was drinking, whoring nobody." Liam was surprised. It was supposed to be a joke, yeah. But where did that come from? His father never told him that, right?

"Dad's, don't they suck?" Connor chuckled a bit and observed that Liam was not paying attention, he was eyeing a blonde girl, young and wearing a beautiful knee-long, casual gown. "Hottie."

"What?"

"The blonde."

"Uh, yeah." Liam wasn't sure why the kid could read him so well. What is going on today, he thought. It's like a dejavu marathon. That girl just seems so… familiar… And what was he doing to talking to this guy anyway? He doesn't even know him. This is one messed up day.

"Probably has a boyfriend." Connor snickered. "I mean she's gotta be at least an eight, right?"

Liam glared at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to be so familiar."

"You weren't. It's just that…"

"She reminds you of someone too?"

"Yeah. Do you think that's weird?"

"No. Not really. Sometimes people have a way of finding each other even after years and years of being part." Like how I found you after growing up in hell. "And when they meet again… If they're really meant to be… It's not so unusual for them to pick up where they left off."

"Uhhh…"

"Let me put it this way, you believe in past lives?" I remember a couple of those.

Liam eyed him carefully.

"Don't give me that look. Let me put it to you in a nutshell. There are things that bind people together, which transcends circumstances. So when they meet again after so long a time and they feel a certain way. It's just not so weird because… It just feels right." My dad and I were separated by dimensions and universes… and yet we always seem to end up finding each other all over again. If that isn't a miracle, I dunno what is. "Didn't mean to go all philosophical for a moment there."

"No it's okay. A little X-file-y but okay," Liam laughed. "I get where you're going actually. It's kinda like…" Liam waved his hands for his lack of words.

"Something like that," Connor laughed.

Liam then joked around. "You have a past life?"

"Yeah. I do. I could remember several. I used to be demon." Still am.

Liam interpreted it as a joke and laughed a bit, but he felt something strange at the way Connor said his words so he just laughed. "Okay, strange answer."

"I'm a strange guy." Connor then stood up. "Guess you're not the only one having a weird day."

"Yeah," Liam agreed. "You going?"

"Just wanted to see the sunset. Kinda special for me." He looked at the blonde again. She was looking a little glazed, like Liam. "You gonna talk to the blonde."

"Not sure yet… maybe. But maybe she'll think I'm a stalker or something. I dunno."

Connor shrugged. "Who knows? I'll see you around."

"Bye Connor. It was nice meeting you. Weird… but nice."

"Same here. Bye, Liam"

Connor walked off. He never looked back. He promised to himself he would not look back. He did not look back for he knew there was no use for it if he did not regret anything. Here he was – A new destiny, a new purpose.

"Bye Dad," he said when he was out of earshot.

* * *

The End


End file.
